Love, Hate and Magic
by LightPhyre
Summary: Bulma is enrolled in a new high school after being home-schooled for her entire life. So, when she meets Vegeta, Orange Star High's number one bachelor, her world is turned upside-down. Meanwhile, certain rules from Vegeta's home planet begin to collide with some new feelings he may be having for the new girl. And a certain destruction plan for Earth may have to be changed...
1. Prologue

**Love, Hate and Magic**

 **Prologue:**

"Alright, dear. Have a good first day of school," Mrs. Briefs called as her daughter jumped in her car and set up the GPS for Orange Star High School. She knew that her parents would be worried and all, but it was natural for them. Besides, it technically was her first day of school… ever. Living a life of travelling and adventure was certainly interesting, especially when your parents were your teachers. If they were in the mood, they could just say that school was cancelled and you could just run back upstairs and listen to music or something. Yup, that was the life.

The previous day, Bulma Briefs had researched some things that a person would need to know when going to a high school. She read a few things about how important your grades in high school were, but that was the boring part. Apparently, there were different groups of people, and you had to choose which one suited you best. She came to the official conclusion that a high school was the same as the wild. There were fights. There was drama- which she had learned was the word for girls who cared about unimportant things. There were teachers- the dictators; the people who had to be where they were and couldn't just send you back up to your room. These were actual adults. A few of the things she read defined them as scary creatures. Some said that they picked favorite students and were nasty to everyone else.

Unfortunately, Bulma never really had a lot of connections with other people her age. Travelling with her parents, she rarely ever saw someone her own age, let alone talked to them.

Mr. Briefs was a researcher for some scientific company. Bulma could never remember the name of it though. It took their family to all corners of the world. Mrs. Briefs was an artist with great skill. She was so talented that people from around the planet would call her and request a painting or something. Once, her mother was asked to paint a mansion for royalty. They had stayed in England a few times for over three months. That was about the limit for staying anywhere when it came to her parents' work.

But now, her parents decided that Bulma needed more social activity, so they bought a house and promised to be home at least once every couple months to check up on her. Of course, the idea made Bulma nervous at first because she would be all alone for such a long period of time, but then she adjusted and found that she would probably enjoy the solitude. She would be able to do anything she wanted whenever she wanted. No more rules. Well, she never really had any rules anyway, so that didn't matter.

The idea of being in a building filled with teens her age for seven hours, five days a week, was the part that spurred her anxiety. She wouldn't have her parents to talk to or to complain to. It was nerve-racking. Especially because she wasn't used to taking to people who liked different things than her. She was interested in engineering sciences and art, like sculptures and paintings. She didn't even know if anyone in the high school would like that stuff. Besides, what did teenagers even talk about? Her parents hadn't given her much advice on making friends. Only about how important her grades were for her future. They never told her about what her social status would be in a high school. They said, "Bulma, you'll do fine. Don't worry about a single thing. Everyone will love you." But after doing her research on high schools, she learned about popularity and how important it was to some teenagers. Yes, she would embarrassingly admit it, she was scared out of her mind. She even found her hands shaking on the steering wheel as she pulled out of her new driveway, leaving her parents behind her, watching in the side mirror as they waved goodbye... They wouldn't be there when she got back.


	2. First Day

**Chapter One: First Day**

Bulma pulled up to the front parking lot of Orange Star High School, looking around at the people just standing around, leaning against the hoods of their cars. The dark gray clouds in the sky showed that Mother Nature was going to be a bitch today. Bulma sighed.

One tall boy with blonde hair tripped another smaller boy right in front of her car. Bulma jammed on her breaks and just missed him. She felt her heart skip a happy beat as she realized that her tires hadn't bumped anything… or any _one_ for that matter. The smaller boy jumped up and ran off, his oversized books pressed tightly to his chest. The taller boy was laughing and a few more behind him joined in.

"Hey!" Bulma called, rolling down her window in frustration, "What's wrong with you?! He could have been seriously hurt!" Why would somebody ever do something like that?

"I know," the boy called sarcastically, turning his head around to see who was talking to him like that. He didn't take shit like that from anyone, and he'd be damned before he let— "Well, well. Look what we have here, boys." A group of disgustingly-dressed teenage boys followed the tall one to walk up to the side of her car. Their pants were too small and half of their underwear was showing, including some unwanted skin area that clearly defined them for Bulma as future plumbers. Two of them, including the one that looked to be the leader, rested their arms on her door and poked their faces into her car. "A new kid." They snickered, showing her their yellow stained teeth. "And she's cute, too."

"Get out," Bulma said, annoyed, pushing their heads out of her car. They hooted like wild animals as she drove further into the parking lot. _What a strange group of boys_ , she thought. She had never seen teenage boys act that way before. She hoped that the entire high school wasn't filled with such trash.

She rolled up her window and parked in the space that was farthest away from any other cars. Being in tight spaces wasn't her favorite thing in the world, especially when it came to driving. And that included where she parked her car. Her mother always used to make fun of her for it, but she figured that, while driving, it was best to do whatever made her the most comfortable. Besides, the farther away she parked, the less likely it was that her car would be damaged in any way. Whether it was her or someone else who did the damaging.

She grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulder before opening the driver's side door. A blast of cold air hit her and she breathed it in. Yup, it was definitely going to rain sometime today. And it looked to be a big storm cloud almost directly above her head, too. _Damn Mother Nature and her mood swings_ , Bulma thought to the world. She reminded herself to prepare to drive in the rain when the school day was over. Driving in the rain always put extra stress on her mind.

She took another breath of the air and stepped out of her small white car. Considering how she had enough money to buy herself relatively anything she wanted, the small white car had been taken to school on purpose. Bulma had decided not to attract too much attention to herself on the first day.

Bulma wore regular blue jeans and comfortable white sneakers with a light blue checkered flannel shirt to match. Her aquamarine hair was pulled into a tight and neat ponytail from the top of her head and she wore one expensive crystal stud in each ear. She had a thin, plastic green bracelet on her left wrist and a silver watch on the other, also expensive. She figured no one would notice her watch, though. She looked around and took in the big sight of Orange Star High, her new getaway from home… Whether she liked it or not.

She grabbed the papers her parents had given her before she left her new house and shut the door, locking the car as she walked away and into the crowds of teens. She gagged, passing a crowd of slutty girls wearing way too much perfume. She let out a cough when she passed a fat boy who smelled like he hadn't taken a shower in weeks. She decided that she'd rather smell the perfume if she had to choose. She could also feel her heart racing and hoped no one could hear it pounding against her rib cage, struggling to break free. All the people around her made her more nervous than she originally thought they would. After all, they were just people. She'd been around people before. She told herself that this was no different from talking with her father's scientist friends or her mother's artsy companions, but something was forcing her to believe otherwise.

She was constantly saying, "excuse me," but no one seemed to notice when she was trying to get past them. Even when she knew they could hear her, they still didn't move. She ended up pushing her way to the front door of the building. A big sign on the door read, "Fall Musical! Come and watch your classmates perform!" She cocked an eyebrow at the multicolored poster and pushed the door open in mock-exasperation.

Inside the building was much better than the outside. Banners hung on the walls, reading things like 'freedom,' 'respect,' friendship,' and other things like that. She wondered if it was just a disguise to fool parents that came in during the day. It seemed like a deceptive but smart thing to do. Make the adults believe that their children are going to a wonderful school when it actually sucked worse than being in hell, taught by the devil himself. Bulma wondered if that was really what high school was all about.

It was also a lot quieter inside the building, and the people were nicer as well. A few said 'hello' to her and others asked if she was new or if she needed any help finding her way around the school. After a short conversation with a boy with a scarf around his neck, she was on her way to the main office to obtain her schedule for the entire year. She opened the glass door and stepped inside.

Bulma's first year in high school was her junior year. She only had senior year after that, and then it was off to college. She felt like she was going to miss something, but after reconsidering, she came to the conclusion that she'd probably like the shortened period of school-time better in the future.

"Hello, sweetheart," a lady in a purple suit called, realizing that Bulma was looking around aimlessly. "Do you need help with something?"

"Uh, yes," Bulma said, walking up to the lady's desk, "Is this the main office?"

"Yes it is."

"My name is Bulma Briefs and this is my first time here. I was told that I should come to the main office for my schedule for the year. May I have it please?"

The lady nodded and spun around in her wheeled computer chair. She bent down, rummaged through some files and then sat back up, a yellow folder in her hands with Bulma's name on it. Bulma quietly noted that the lady smelled like baby powder and air fresheners. She tried her best not to wheeze at the disgusting combination of odors.

The lady pulled out a pile of papers and passed them across the desk. Bulma took them casually and quickly breezed through them, looking for something that could possibly look like her schedule.

"It's right on top, sweetheart," the lady in the purple suit said, placing her pointer finger on top of the pile in Bulma's hands, flipping the pages over so Bulma would see the top sheet. Bulma smiled, nodded her appreciation and walked out of the main office. As soon as the door shut behind her, a sharp, high-pitched noise rung throughout the building and Bulma covered her ears, almost dropping her papers in the process. All the people who had been outside now stormed through the front doors and plowed down the hallways. Bulma guess the high-pitched noise was indicating that the school day had started. She glanced at her paper, dodging a group of stampeding girls that almost trampled her as flat as a pancake.

"All right," she said to herself, "First period… Let's see… English, room number thirty-five." Bulma looked through her packet of papers again to see if she could find a map of the building, but she drew a blank. There wasn't any sign of a map in her pile of apparently non-important papers. She followed a crowd of yawning teens just entering the building to see if they could help her. "Excuse me," she said to one of the girls, "Could you please tell me where room number thirty-five is?" The girl looked over at her as if Bulma had just told her how obnoxious she looked. The girl scowled and stomped away, a group of people running to catch up to her.

Bulma followed after another group of people, but couldn't catch up to them in time. They entered a classroom on the right. Bulma looked above the door to find the number twelve. She silently thanked whatever omnipotent being was watching down on her. The last thing she wanted to do was make a fool out of herself because she couldn't find her classroom, and if anything was going to help her, besides people, it was numbered label for each classroom. The thought that kept entering her mind was the image of a room full of students and a professor staring at her as she entered her first class… late.

She satisfyingly looked ahead for the number thirteen and continued down the hallway. When she reached the end, she turned right at the three way intersection in the hallway and came to the room numbered forty-seven. Turning around, she bumped into a spiky haired teen that had been walking right behind her.

Bulma froze.

The boy was gorgeous. Bulma took the moment that they faced each other to take in all the glorious details. His spikey hair was jet black, but they didn't even come close to the darkness in his onyx eyes. They seemed to pierce her flesh like icicles in a raging and violent snow storm. His look alone sent cold chills up and down her spine. She noted how his tight blue tank-top magnified every muscle in his upper body. Bulma could have used the word perfect and then decided that it was an understatement. His arms were flawlessly covered in what Bulma could've described as a layer of protection. She could have easily pictured herself in his arms, feeling like she was safe for all of eternity. The scowl placed firmly on his face wasn't inviting at all, but the simple shape of him made her heart do an underwater backflip. She found herself holding her breath for a fraction of an instant. The only way to describe this elegant and immaculate figure in front of her was pure sex in human form. She mentally slapped herself. That was no way for a girl like her to think! But still, he had to have been the most divine creature she had ever laid her eyes on.

"Watch where you're going!" Holy shit. Even his voice sounded godlike. Bulma could hear that sound for months and never get bored with it. In fact, she found herself desperately yearning to hear it again.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to find my way around. I'm looking for room thirty-five, and I think I went the wrong way. Sorry about that." Her voice came out quicker and more high-pitched than she would have liked, but at least it was working. That was a definite plus.

"You're going the right way," he said, clearly aggravated with her naivety. "Just follow me. I have the same class." Bulma screamed with joy and excitement in her head. It actually took some effort not to do it for real, but she congratulated herself for it as the flawless boy walked ahead of her, not checking to make sure she was following behind him.

Bulma noticed that, when the boy walked, people moved out of his way as if he would just punch anyone who got near him. She noted how the girls' faces turned red as he passed them and how some of them, glanced over and shyly turned away when they thought he caught them staring. The males that he passed were clearly acknowledging him as the Alpha Male, moving out of the way as he walked and turning their backs so as not to offend him. Bulma decided that he was probably the last person anyone in the vicinity would want to bump into, but she had actually done it, and, currently, her ass wasn't being kicked. She felt a sense of pride in herself. _Ha-ha_ , she thought to the people around her, _No one but me has the guts to bump into this guy, and he's escorting me to my first class, which we_ _have_ _together, if I might add_. She smiled to herself. The first five minutes of high school and she was already in love. _Don't ruin anything, Bulma_ , she thought to herself eagerly. She knew this probably wasn't the best thing in the world for her to be doing, but the people watching her apparently found it obvious how she was following the man that held almost every girl's attention in the halls. So, naturally, the attention was also on her. Her first taste of people being jealous of her felt like a sugar rush. Or an adrenaline rush. It didn't matter to her. All this only made her notice how much more amazing the boy she was following really was. Her heart did another underwater backflip.

 _Make sure you focus on your_ _schoolwork_ , her parents had told her. _Don't get into anything that could distract you from your primary duties._ Man, if she had too many classes with this guy, she was going to have a lot of focusing to do, and she wasn't even sure that it was going to be on her schoolwork either. She blushed at her own thoughts as she currently focused on not staring too low on the boy in front of her as he flawlessly walked among the crowds.

She put her thoughts on pause as the spiky haired boy entered a classroom. She checked the number at the top to find that it was indeed room number thirty-five. She followed him up the stairs to the desks and looked around at the nearly empty room. Only a few people were already seated in chairs, pulled close to their tables. Each table seated about three or four people and there were three tables lined up horizontally on each step. There were three steps as well. The boy she was following sat at the far end of the rightmost table on the rightmost side. It seemed like he knew exactly where to sit, even before he entered the room. Bulma cautiously followed him and stood, standing next to the seat to the boy's left.

"It's taken," he said, not bothering to look up at her when he spoke.

"Oh," Bulma said. Her insides fell apart as she turned around, looking for any other place to sit. Then, people started filing into the room and taking their seats as if they, too, knew exactly where they wanted to be as soon as they entered the classroom. Bulma was left standing, not knowing where she should, or could, sit. She guessed that she just had a harder time deciding where to sit in the first class that she'd ever been to in her entire existence. She felt like she would have a panic attack if she picked the wrong place to sit down. Plus, whenever she began to walk to a seat, deciding that it was ideal for her first class ever, another person just walked up to it and sat down in her place. Then, she'd have to turn around and look for another ideal seat. She felt her heart race when she thought about being the only person without a seat. Was that even possible? What if the people who set up the schedules put her in a class that was already full? _Oh, no_ , she thought, _what do I do now?_

"Will you just sit down?" the boy said, aggravated with her again. Bulma turned back around. The only seat that wasn't taken in her view was the one right next to him. And he had said that it was already taken.

"Where?" she asked.

"Right there," he said, and Bulma could feel him heating up as if he were an oven on high. And boy was he hot. Bulma mentally slapped herself again. _Stop that!_ she told herself forcefully.

"You said it was taken," she replied, setting her bag down next to the chair anyway.

"Well, now it is," he said, a mocking tone to his voice. Bulma came to the obvious conclusion that she shouldn't get this one angry. He seemed to have a short fuse for a temper… and an attitude as the bomb.

She also decided that, because of the way everyone acted around him when he had led her through the halls before, he had something weird about him that she wasn't yet aware of. She hoped it wasn't something bad, like he just got out of prison or something.

Bulma happily pulled out the chair and sat down. She pulled it closer to the table, unintentionally noticing the stares and glares that were thrown her way. People were watching her left and right… and she kind of liked it. Her first day of school was turning out to be pretty nice, despite what her original thoughts had been about it. She had already made a friend, or what she thought could be a friend, she hadn't embarrassed herself in front of everyone, and she didn't get lost finding her first class. Bulma was on a roll. She just hoped that it didn't suddenly stop anytime soon.

"All right, you lazy maggots," a voice called from the front of the room. A man walked in and stood at the base of the stairs, angrily watching everyone in the room. "This is your first period class for the year. And I, Mr. Piccolo, am your English teacher." He paused to make sure he held all of the attention in the room. "I only have one rule. It's that you listen to everything I tell you to do and to study hard. But… I have plenty more punishments than I have rules. And let's just say that the principal and the supervisors of the school board don't have to know everything, and what they don't know can't hurt them. But it _can_ hurt you." Bulma watched a few people go white. The boy sitting next to her had a bored expression on his face. "But don't worry. As long as you follow my one rule, you'll do fine in my class." Bulma hoped that not all teachers were like this, but she was prepared. Plus, she had no problem with Mr. Piccolo's one rule. She could follow that, no problem. Paying attention and following orders was something she had been doing for her entire life. Why stop now? And studying hard was easy. Without her parents around, what else could she possibly do all by herself…?

"Now…" Mr. Piccolo looked everyone in the eyes before continuing. Bulma found it almost difficult not to look away when his evil-looking eyes met hers. "We'll begin with a quiz!" Groans and whines were heard all over the room. Complaints bounced off the walls. One girl cried that it was unfair to the class. Mr. Piccolo held up his left hand to silence them. The room slowly lost its fire. And so did the people in it. Mr. Piccolo grabbed a stack of papers from off his desk and placed one in front of each person. The spiky haired boy sitting next to her took out a freshly sharped pencil and began writing as soon as the paper hit the top of his desk. Bulma then got hers and she looked at the problems. The first one was her name. Whenever her parents gave her worksheets for when she was homeschooled, she never filled out her name because she didn't find a point to it. In fact, she hadn't even known why the empty space was there to begin with, seeing as her parents knew who's paper it had been. But now that there were a bunch of different students taking the same paper as their quiz, she finally realized why it was important. She carefully wrote _Bulma Briefs_ in the neatest handwriting she could manage before looking at the first question.

 _What is a split verb?_ she thought. _That's easy. It occurs any time you place a modifier between a helping verb and the main verb. Next question: what is an ambiguous pronoun? It's when a pronoun doesn't have a known or direct antecedent. How do you avoid a parallel structure? You make everything in the same tense and form in a sentence. What is a block quote? When you are quoting a dialogue or more than three sentences. What is Anglo-Saxon lyrical poetry? It is a lyric poem that expresses the thoughts and feelings of a single speaker. What is an epic? It's a long, narrative poem that depicts the story of a legendary hero. What is a satire? It's a social commentary. What is an epistolary? It is a novel in letter form. What is the difference between direct and indirect characterization? Well, direct characterization is when the author tells the readers exactly how the character acts and what his or her personality is. And indirect characterization is when the author leaves the character's personality and traits for the readers to decide based off of vague descriptions that the author gives. What is medieval romance? That's easy. They're adventure stories that feature knights, kings, damsels in distress, etc. They also tell of quarrels, battles and doomed love. Finally, the last question: What are legends? Legends are anonymous traditional stories. They may be based off of facts. Their elements are heroic figures, memorable deeds, quests, tests of valor, patterns of events, etc. Phew! That was intense._

Bulma's pencil moved like crazy, and she completed her task with a silent sigh. She knew that not many people in the world were as smart as her, but she didn't like to brag about it. Even though she was homeschooled by her parents, they had taught her so many things. It never surprised her when people called her a natural genius. In fact, she got that compliment often by the adults she spoke to when helping her parents with their work. Because of her tremendous studying and natural talent, she guessed that she was one of the smartest students in the room.

The spiky haired teen got up from his seat and walked to the front of the room. He placed his quiz in front of Mr. Piccolo, who didn't even bother looking up from his desk as he wrote a few things down in a notebook in front of him. Bulma didn't even hear him say 'thank you' or anything. She stood up next and passed the boy on her way down the steps. She was taking extra care not to fall. Despite her amazing abilities of knowledge, she was also sometimes referred to as a magnet for disaster. The last thing she wanted was to trip and fall right in front of everyone in such a quiet room. The sound of silence was sometimes the loudest thing she had ever heard. Now was one of those times.

She placed her paper on top of the spiky haired boy's quiz and stole a quick glance to see what his name was. It was hard to see upside-down, but she managed to make out a Ve—

"Miss!" Mr. Piccolo called, "Do not look at the other students' papers! Just place your quiz down now or I'll have to give you a zero." Bulma's face turned bright red as she turned around. She looked up to find that many people were staring at her. She took her chances and flung them out the window just to take a peek at the teen to her right as she pulled out her chair from the table. She was surprised to see him with his head down, not appearing to care about anything. Bulma wondered if she should scream "fire!" just to get him to look up, but she guessed that he wouldn't really care about that either. And all it would do is gather everyone's attention on her, seeing as there was obviously no fire.

She sat down and pulled in her chair. Another thing that surprised her was that, before she had been yelled at, she had noticed that the boy's paper had been filled out completely. She stupidly found herself becoming a bit attached to him because he seemed to be intelligent, just like her. She smiled to herself before putting her pencil back in her bag. She glanced around inconspicuously, trying not to get caught again and yelled at in front of the entire class. She noticed how many of the teens in the room had barely managed to scrape the surface of the quiz. A bunch didn't even have any writing on their papers, other than their names, of course. And some didn't even have that much. Almost a half an hour passed before a few people handed their quizzes in to Mr. Piccolo. Bulma noted how little they had filled out. Maybe being smart wasn't popular in high schools. Maybe some people just didn't know the things she did. But that seemed a bit odd. She could never understand how so many people could be so ignorant to English and literature. They were such interesting and thought-provoking subjects… Weren't they…?

Bulma's heart began to race. She recalled a few of the groups of teens in a typical high school setting that she had researched a few days ago. She remembered the smart people being known as the _nerds_. She had read that nerds had no social status whatsoever and they were often made fun of. She mentally panicked. She didn't want to be the oddball-out. She wanted to be one of the popular teens in the building. She wanted people to know who she was, not to look down on her because she was a nerd. _Ugh_ , she thought. She could never sacrifice her schoolwork to become popular, so that was out of the question. What else could she possibly do? She could try and create her own group. She could make some smart friends and create a group of smart and cool people. She stole a quick look at the boy to her right. He could be first… Yeah, right. She could barely talk in front of him without throwing up her own goddamn stomach in the process! Besides, what idiots created their own groups anyway? Sheesh.

That annoying high-pitched sound rung around the school again, and people began leaving their seats. Bulma quickly concluded that the noise indicated not only the start of the school day, but when to leave the classes as well. She also guessed that it was to tell the students when the day was over. She pulled out her schedule and looked at the second box. _Human Behavior, room number forty-seven_ , she thought, picturing the number forty-seven above a door in her mind. If only finding _all_ her rooms was that easy… It _would_ be kind of nice if the entire school was only in her mind.

She grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulder. She followed the crowd out into the hallway and traced back her steps, remembering that she had passed room number forty-seven before, when she had first bumped into the spiky haired teen. She looked behind her to see if he was there, but she noticed his hair above the crowds, way in front of her already. And he was going in the opposite direction than the way she needed to go. She sighed and made her way to her next class.

Upon entering the room, she looked around for someone with a friendly and helpful face, but all she found were yawning boys and scowling girls. No one in the room looked friendly to her. They all looked angry to be there, and some actually looked like they might kill someone to get out. Bulma made sure to steer clear of those types of faces. She found an empty seat in the middle of the front table, all the way on the right. Apparently, all the classrooms were set up the same way. The two that she had been in, including this one, had the three horizontal tables on each of the three steps, and a desk for the teacher in the front, with a blackboard behind it. The only difference was that there was actually a teacher in the chair at the front desk when the students walked into the room.

Bulma watched from her seat as the empty seats slowly disappeared. Then, a relatively small girl with long black hair sat to Bulma's left.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?" she asked. Bulma thought her voice sounded like chimes. "Is it taken?"

"No, no," Bulma said happily, excited that she was currently sitting next to what seemed to be the nicest person in the room. "It's not taken. You can sit there."

"Thanks," she said, placing her backpack on the ground, leaning against the metal leg of her chair. It fell over as she pulled her chair closer to the black table in front of her. She looked down at it, but didn't bother to pick it back up. She then turned back to Bulma. "My name's Chichi. Who are you?"

Bulma paused before answering, thinking once again about her luck for this girl sitting next to her. "I'm Bulma Briefs."

"Are you new here? I don't remember ever seeing you around last year."

"Yeah," Bulma smiled, "This is actually my first day of school. My parents have homeschooled me since I was four years old. I've never been around so many people in such an enclosed area in my entire life."

"Wow. You mean you've never been to a school… Like _ever_?"

"Well, I've been to schools across the world, helping children learn how to read and other stuff like that, but I've never been taught in a school. I've never been an _actual_ student before. Except for in my own house, but I don't think that really counts, does it?"

"Holy cow, that's so cool. You mean, you've never had to go to classes, or got a detention or, my gosh, played in any sports?"

"Nope."

"Girl, you're going to have to stay close by me. When I say this high school is a forest of animals, I mean it's a _jungle_ of animals. Even the teachers are wacky. This one, for instance," she said, pointing to the blonde lady at the front of the classroom. She had thick, round orange glasses and was still sitting at her desk, absorbed in some outrageously thick book. "That's Miss Misuka. She's nice to all of her students, but she can never concentrate while she's teaching a class. Not that I'm complaining. I had her last year, so when I say we're going to have a _lot_ of talking time, you known I'm being serious."

Bulma nodded.

"So meet anybody special lately?" she asked, a strange tone in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

Chichi smirked. "I think you know exactly what I mean… You know, like a boy?"

"Uh… No, not really."

"Oh, come on! Don't be modest. Everyone already knows about what happened with you and Vegeta this morning."

"… Huh? What happened?" she asked, not understanding the importance of her statement.

"You actually hit him turning around. And then he took you to your class. Then, he let you sit next to him. Wow, girl. You must be something special. Vegeta never even wants to be around girls if he can help it. He's a lone wolf, if you know what I mean. He never talks to anyone he thinks is lower than him unless necessary. Plus, the biggest thing is that he let you sit next to him, let alone the fact that he actually _offered_ the seat to you. No one really dares to sit next to him except for his closest friends. Everyone's always afraid that he'll be mad at them. And when I say that no one wants to be the target of Vegeta's anger, you know I'm not joking."

"Why?"

"Wow. You really are new at this school stuff, aren't you? Although I'd have to say that Vegeta is the only exception to the 'normal' high school life. He tends to happily invite ambulances to our school. And sometimes, the people who go there never come back."

Bulma went white as a fresh cloud. "You mean, he killed someone?!"

"No, no. Nothing that bad, but he still sent them to the hospitals. What I meant is that they're too afraid to ever be in the same building as that guy after he's done with them. Vegeta has made himself a reputation of the boy that no one wants to mess with, as well as, of course, being the hottest guy in school because of his physical abilities that he never neglects to show off."

Bulma sat back in her chair, thinking about that spiky haired boy. _So, his name is Vegeta, huh?_ she thought to herself, _I kind of like it. And Chichi just said that he's the 'most wanted' guy in the entire school. I guess that's for more than one reason… hehe_. Plus, he had escorted her, in a way, to her first period class, and he offered for her to sit next to him. If that was as big of a deal as Chichi said it was, then she felt even more special than she had before. He was even amazingly smart, which she had just witnessed while taking her first ever, official quiz.

Bulma and Chichi talked further on the subject of how a high school works and what teachers to look out for, etc. As Chichi had predicted, Miss Misuka didn't budge from her seat. She continued reading her insanely thick book through the entire class period and even through the bell that dismissed the class.

Bulma's next period was Pre-Calculus/ Trigonometry. She found the numbered room with relative ease without anyone's help, but she didn't find anyone to talk to. She raised her hand when her name was called for attendance, and noticed a few people talking about her and glancing over. They had been trying to be inconspicuous about it, but had epically failed, quickly whipping their heads around when they saw that she had seen them. Other than that, she just sat there, minding her own business and watching the clock until the next annoying high-pitched ring pierced her ears, signaling for fourth period to beginning in a few minutes.

Fourth period was Chemistry. Bulma entered the huge room to find that there were at least thirty people in this one class. Off, in the back right corner of the room, was her spiky haired acquaintance. He was talking to another boy. Bulma noticed that it looked like he was complaining about something to the other boy.

"All right! Everyone to the front of the room! Now! You should all wait until I call your name, and then I'll give you your assigned seats for the year." Bulma looked up to find a short-haired brunette woman. She looked like she was five or six months pregnant.

Everyone scurried to the front of the room and awaited the teacher's call.

"Sharpner! Up in the front, please! Erasa! Next to Sharpner!" Bulma patiently awaited her name to be called. "Goku! Over there, in the next row, please!" The boy that Vegeta had been complaining to stepped forward and took his seat. "Angela, next to Goku!" Bulma dozed off for a brief moment. "Vegeta, in the back right lab table!" She snapped back into reality and watched as he made his way back to the farther right corner of the room, where he had been standing before class began. "Maron, next to Vegeta!" A long haired dopey-looking girl skipped daintily to her seat. If Bulma had to pick one word to describe her, it was definitely _**ditzy**_. "Bulma! The back middle lab desk, please! Yamcha, next to Bulma!" Bulma made her way across the room, walking past Vegeta without looking at him. She placed her bag on the top of the black lab desk and watched as the boy known as Yamcha sat down next to her. He had a long scar on his face and he looked like he was having a really crappy day. "Launch, at the back left lab desk! And finally, Videl, next to Launch!" The pregnant teacher turned back to her class. "Well, that's all for today. Everyone, get to know the people you're sitting next to, or talk to a neighbor. Just don't leave your seats and try not to get too loud. I have no plans for today. We start class tomorrow. Bring a pencil and a notebook. That's all."

"Hi there," Yamcha said. Bulma turned to him. "Who are you? I've never seen you around here before."

"Oh, right. I'm Bulma Briefs, and you've never seen me before because I'm new here. I've never been to a high school before. I've been homeschooled my entire life. Well, up until today, that is."

"Wow! That's incredible! I'm sure you'll want me to tell you all about what you should do here. Plus, I can give you tips on how to stay out of trouble if you want. I know all the info on everybody, too. I think we'll be great lab buddies," he joked.

"Sure," Bulma laughed, "Sounds like fun."

So, for the rest of Chemistry, Bulma got to know Yamcha. He was overall, a nice guy, but Bulma concluded that he was too naïve for his own good. Deep down, he was probably a troublemaker, but he seemed nice enough when he was talking to her.

Bulma made her way through the hallways after the next bell had blown out whatever eardrums she had left. He next class was gym, so the room was, thankfully, easy to find. The gym instructors told everyone to bring a change of clothes for tomorrow, but they had today off because it was the first day of the school year, and the students couldn't be responsible for bringing a change of clothes on the first day. Bulma found Chichi again, relaxing on the bleachers. She was leaning against Goku, the guy that Vegeta had been talking to back in Chem.

"Hey! Bulma! Over here!" Chichi waved dramatically and Bulma came running over to her. "Bulma, this is Goku. Goku, this is Bulma." Bulma watched as Goku eyed her suspiciously, but it wasn't enough for Chichi to say anything about it. Then, Vegeta came walking over and sat down next to Goku and Chichi, since she obviously came with the package. He glanced at her for a moment, and then turned around to glare at some people who were staring at him. Or if they were staring at her. Bulma couldn't exactly tell considering the distances and the speed at which they all turned their heads away after receiving a threatening glare from Vegeta.

Bulma sat in silence, not knowing if she should say something, and not knowing if she shouldn't. Chichi and Goku talked for the entire period though, nonstop. They were apparently used to Vegeta being around, because Bulma certainly wasn't. Also, the fact that Goku and Chichi seemed to be currently going out puzzled Bulma. Chichi had called Vegeta the "hottest guy in school," and she was going out with someone who… didn't fit that description…? Not that Bulma thought you should only date guys if they're hot, because she didn't. A person's personality was the big hitter in a long-term relationship. It was just strange to hear the way she talked about Vegeta, and then find out that she had a boyfriend.

Bulma got lost in her thoughts until the next bell reverberated off the walls. Bulma checked her schedule to find that it was finally lunch time. She was never going to get used to not being able to eat her lunch during class. Her parents always let her do that.

"Bulma, do you want to sit by us?" Chichi asked, getting up, off of Goku.

"Sure," Bulma replied, happy that she wouldn't have to look like some moron who couldn't find a group of people to sit with in the cafeteria.

They left the gymnasium and headed for the lunchroom. It was only a few paces away from the farthest side of the gym, so it didn't take very long for them to reach their destination. Bulma could hear her stomach growling at her for food as she opened the big white double-doors. A bunch of different smells hit her right in the face. They practically gave her a nosebleed, they hit her so hard. She eagerly followed Chichi and Goku, hand-in-hand, yet she was still carefully aware that Vegeta was following close behind her. She made sure to remind herself not to turn around so fast, if she had to, like the last time, so as not to run into him again.

"So, ChiChi?" Goku asked, "What are you going to get for lunch?"

"I don't know. I didn't check what was on today's menu this morning. You know, it's the first day back and all. Unlike you, lunch wasn't the first thing on my mind. I was more focused on what classes I had to take and whether or not I got them. Plus, I had to do my hair and pick out an outfit. A girl can't go to her first day back in high school wearing the same old drab clothing she wore last year, now can she?" Bulma overheard the last part of what Chichi had said and looked down at herself. She was wearing the same clothes that she wore last year… Was that bad? Actually, they were the same clothes she wore when she went with her parents to Italy for a big art project and some science fair. And that had been almost three years ago… But she thought her clothes looked fine when she looked in the mirror this morning. Why didn't she think so now? They were, after all, the same exact clothes that she had thrown on in her bedroom before she left for Orange Star High…

Vegeta walked ahead of Bulma, passing her to get in line behind Chichi and Goku. Bulma hadn't realized it until it was too late, but she was standing in everyone's way, staring at all the things that she had been missing in life. Huge banners on every wall. A room full of all sorts of people and food that made you drool. This was nothing like the senior citizens' bingo parties that she used to be dragged to by her parents. This was a bunch of people her age, all eating unhealthy, greasy, deep-fried goodness. Bulma couldn't fathom how she had managed to survive this long into her life without ever going to a high school.

"Are you coming or not?" Vegeta growled at Bulma, a few people cutting in front of her after noticing that they could get away with it, seeing as she wasn't paying a lot of attention to them at the moment.

"Uh… Oh, yeah." She scurried to her place behind Vegeta.

"Hey! New kid! Back of the line! We were here first!" some tall blonde boy yelled at her.

"Oh," Bulma said, stepping out of the line, "I'm sorry." Her arm was grabbed and she turned to find her spiky-haired dream boy's hand on her upper wrist.

"She's with me Sharpner," he told the tall blonde boy in a very bored, but arrogant tone. Bulma was a bit surprised when no one complained about her cutting them off in line after that. Vegeta hadn't even sounded like he was making a threat and they backed off. She found herself liking having him around and regretting not trying her luck at talking to him during gym. Then, he turned to her. "Stand up for yourself," he angrily spat, "I won't watch your back again, woman."

"… Woman?" she asked, but he had already turned around and was ordering his food on the plastic red tray he was given. She was handed a blue tray and discreetly looked over his shoulder to see her selection of food for the evening. There were waffle sticks with bacon, a cup of canned fruit and hash browns. Bulma decided to get everything, seeing as money wasn't really an issue with her. She grabbed a small milk carton and made her way to the cash register, her tray in her hands. She reached into her purse and pulled out a credit card. She handed it to the unnaturally masculine lunch lady, who looked at her as if she had seven heads.

"Listen kid, are you tryin' to be funny, 'cause it ain't workin'. You pay me right or you don't get no stinkin' food from my cafeteria, ya hear?" the snotty lady said bluntly. Bulma noticed that she had horrible 5'o clock shadow and could be mistaken for a man from far away because of it.

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked, titling her head to one side in confusion, "You want cash?"

"Stop foolin' around, kid. You're holdin' up the line. Pay or get outta here, kid."

"But I don't carry cash," Bulma said innocently. All she wanted was her lunch and because she didn't have dollar bills, the school wasn't going to give it to her? That seemed a little unfair in her point of view. If she wanted to pay with a credit card, then maybe the school should have better technology. She considered giving the lady a check, but she didn't have time to think about it for long.

"Here!" Vegeta yelled, officially pissed off at the world. He shoved a ten at the lunch lady and stomped off after Goku and Chichi. "Keep the change!" he called to Bulma, clearly aggravated with her as well. Bulma's face fell as she received the change from the lunch lady. She put it on her tray and slowly followed after the spiky haired teen. She noticed that he walked with a swagger and stopped her brain for a moment just to admire how he made his way to their lunch table.

Fearing being attacked or something, Bulma placed her tray of food next to Chichi, at the end of the white table so no one else could sit next to her on the bench that was attached.

"Wow!" Goku exclaimed, "This looks amazing! I'm going to have to give my thanks to whoever made this stuff!" He eagerly shoved a hash brown into his mouth. "It tastes better than it looks! Wow!"

Bulma saw Vegeta roll his eyes as he popped three pieces of fruit into his mouth all at once. Bulma always found that people looked funny when they ate, and she was raised to know that it was impolite to watch someone eat their food. But she had never believed that someone could look so sexy while stuffing their face. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have never believed it. Knowing that if she was caught staring, she was dead, Bulma looked at her own tray of food. She picked up her fork and played with her waffle sticks. Then she remembered that, technically, Vegeta had paid for her lunch and a couple more to come in the near future. So she decided that it would be smart to just eat the damn food without playing with it. She didn't want him to think that she was ungrateful by toying with her food and then wasting it. She shoved the waffle stick coated with syrup into her mouth.

The clock reminded her that she was pressed for time. That was another thing she would have to get used to: having a time limit for how long she could eat. She guessed that it was plenty of time for her to have two meals or more, but she was never good with time limits. They put unwanted pressure on her shoulders. She popped another syrup-coated waffle stick into her mouth, glancing at the clock one last time before putting her head back down.

"If you don't want it, then don't eat it," Vegeta growled at her. Bulma looked up at him and quickly decided that somewhere along the line, his mood had turned from bad to pure evil. She hoped that it wasn't her fault. _Stupid credit card_ , she thought, _what in the world was I thinking?! Of course they would want cash. I'm such an idiot! Who uses a credit card to buy lunch at a_ high school _? An_ idiot _, that's who! I feel so stupid! How could I make such a thoughtless mistake?! UGH!_

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, not knowing how to avoid being hated by the divine creature that was now angry with her. She pushed her plate away, showing that she wasn't going to eat anything else for the rest of the period.

"I didn't mean…" he said, and then stopped himself, "Do you want it or not?!" he glowered.

"I…" Bulma didn't know what the correct response was to that question. What could she say? What _should_ she say? And then she thought about what she would say if she wasn't in a high school. What she would say if she was still homeschooled by her parents and a boy asked her the same question that Vegeta had, despite the fact that Vegeta was the most intimidating person she had ever met in her entire life. "Yeah," she said softly, bringing her tray back to its rightful place in front of her. And without another word, she turned her head away from him and shoved another waffle stick into her mouth.

Chichi looked over at her with a concerned expression on her face. She then glanced at Vegeta, who was no longer looking their way. His eyes were fixed on the table to the left of his plate so that he wouldn't have to see anyone.

"Hey, Bulma? Mind if I see your schedule? I want to see if we have any other classes together," she asked, removing her curious eyes from Vegeta. He was, strangely, not so angry anymore.

"Oh, sure," Bulma replied, turning to reach inside her bag for the pack of papers she had received in the beginning of the day at the main office. She found her schedule and pulled it out, careful not to rip it in half or anything. She handed it to Chichi, who already had her own schedule in her other hand.

After a few moments of scanning over the two papers, Chichi looked up with a bit of a smile on her face.

"Well, you'll have to wait two more periods, but we have Art class together; it's last period. Goku has the same thing. And…" Chichi approached the subject matter cautiously, "so does Vegeta. Goku and I aren't in your next two classes, though. I don't know… Vegeta's full schedule… Sorry," she casually shrugged, involuntarily putting an arm around Goku's waist as he continued to eat. Bulma didn't know that it was possible for one boy to eat so much in so little time.

The next bell rang a few minutes later, and everyone was released from their seats and ordered to their next classes. It was now period seven.

Bulma looked her schedule over, hoping that maybe she could memorize her final classes so she wouldn't have to look at her schedule again for the rest of the day. Right after she knew where she was currently going, and after her schedule was neatly folded into her bag, she knew that it would be impossible. She would have to look at her schedule for her next to periods as well. It was clearly inevitable for her to have to look it over for the rest of the day.

History was Bulma's seventh period class. As soon as she found and entered the classroom, her name was called from some back seat. The sun was shining from the window behind the person calling her, so she couldn't see exactly who it was until she got a little closer. The long scar revealed that it was Yamcha. He saved her a seat… Bulma was grateful, but something else inside her was a bit creeped out by the gesture.

"Hey, Bulma! Over here, girl!" Bulma's face flushed a bit as she quickly made her way to the reserved seat.

"Thank you," she said shyly, not sure how to respond to something so… outright.

"No problem," he smiled, "I'm so glad you're in this class. I was a bit worried that none of my friends would be in here with me. You have no idea how much of a relief it was when I first saw you enter the room. Phew, it was like an air conditioner on a hot summer night. You know what I mean?" he laughed at his own comment, and Bulma forced herself to do the same, seeing as he _did_ save her a seat, and _was_ someone to talk to so she wouldn't be alone. She would rather have Yamcha than no one at all. That was for sure.

She noticed that less people were staring at her now that the news was old. She guessed that it also had something to do with the fact that she was sitting next to Yamcha. She could finally understand what " _nerd_ " meant. Well, without the part about being smart. He just didn't give off the vibes for being a true "nerd". She tried to think of the other high school groups she had found out about while doing some research a few days before she arrived at Orange Star High, but couldn't remember all the names for them. Then she felt guilty for labeling people, so she just stopped altogether.

"I think Mr. Gohan is the teacher for this class," Yamcha said, looking over his schedule and pointing to the name of the class. The name Mr. Gohan was above it, so Bulma didn't reply, thinking that his eyes could respond to the statement in her place. Then she wondered if he was just trying to hold a conversation, so she quickly changed her mind.

"Yeah, that's what it says on your schedule," she said, reaching over to point to the name, "Right there, see?"

"Oh," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Geez, I must have missed it. Oops."

"Alright class," Mr. Gohan said, silencing the students in the room. Everyone's conversations abruptly came to a close as Mr. Gohan stood and walked to the front of the room. "Hello, my name is Mr. Gohan," he began. But then the door was whipped open.

"But _why_?!" a girl's whiny voice wailed from the outside as a familiar spiky haired teen entered the room and slammed the door shut. Mr. Gohan jumped at the loud noise. Vegeta didn't notice Bulma, but he found his way to an open seat in the left row and slammed his books on top of the desk, causing Mr. Gohan to startle once again. People around Vegeta were carefully looking at the markings on their desks, deeply involved in whatever shapes and colors were created by someone who had been seated there before. Mr. Gohan adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat and continued.

"I guess, since it's the first day of school, I'll just dismiss… any lates for today… in case you couldn't find the classroom… As I was saying before, my name is Mr. Gohan, and this is your US History 2 class for the year. I'll begin by taking attendance, and then we could play a little game if you guys want to." He made his way back to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. He called Bulma's name first, seeing as her last name started with a "B" for Briefs.

After everyone's name had been called and placed as either present or absent, Mr. Gohan came back to the front of the classroom.

"Okay, class. We're going to play a game to get to know each other. We'll go in the order of the desks, row by row, and you'll each say something about yourself. It can be anything you want… but keep it PG13 please," he added thoughtfully, "And when everyone has gone, we'll just start over and present new information about ourselves, okay?"

The class whined and complained except for a few people in the front who looked to be excited about the opportunity to tell people about themselves. Bulma rolled her eyes at the game. She felt that people knew too much about her already, and she had only been here for less than a full day of school.

"You," Mr. Gohan said happily, pointing to a brown-haired girl in the front in the left row. "You can go first.

"… Well… I…"

Bulma didn't bother to listen. She turned to Yamcha, feeling the need to be preoccupied, just like everyone else as the brown-haired girl began to give a fact about herself.

"So, how long have you gone to this school?" she asked him. He turned to look at her, clearly happy that she was talking to him. She tried to remember the names of the high school groups that she had looked up again, but still couldn't remember the one that she believed Yamcha fit into.

"I've lived in Satan City my entire life. I went to elementary school right down the street from where I live and I went to preschool on the other side of the city. So I haven't been anywhere but here, actually," he replied, smirking and rubbing the back of his neck again.

"That must be nice… Not having to go anywhere, I mean."

"That's funny."

"What's funny?"

"That you find my life nice. I would give anything to be able to be homeschooled by my parents. It must have been a good life for you. Nicer than mine, if you don't mind me saying so."

"No, I don't mind. My mother used to tell me that people are never satisfied with what they have. Another example from how we lived that my mother told me was when people dye their hair. They aren't happy with whatever color they were given, so they always want to dye it."

"Your hair isn't dyed," Yamcha pointed out.

"Well, maybe that's because my mother told me that most people don't like what they've got. I always tried to be different, so I guess that made me happy with my own hair. I don't think I would ever want it to be a different color. I'm pretty satisfied with everything I was given. I wouldn't change anything about me if I was ever given the option… I like me," she said, smiling. Yamcha smiled back.

"You're next," Mr. Gohan said, pointing to Vegeta. Bulma looked up, as did everyone else in the room.

"Pass," he stated flatly.

"We're playing a game. You should participate," Mr. Gohan said.

"Pass," he repeated forcefully, putting his head down on his desk. Mr. Gohan tisked and pointed to the boy sitting behind the spiky haired teen to take his turn next.

"I heard about you bumping into Vegeta this morning," Yamcha whispered.

"So?" Bulma asked, forcing herself not to be so uptight about the subject.

"I think it's about time someone showed that guy that other people aren't afraid of him. It's even better because you're a girl. And a pretty tough one at that," he added.

"Well, I didn't think of it like that when I hit him. I didn't even know who he was at the time… I actually thought he was pretty nice," she replied, not wanting to say anything bad about the boy she was currently trying to get acquainted with. It also appeared that he had a bad reputation with some of the other boys in the school. The only thing that crossed her mind was that Yamcha was jealous. He obviously didn't have Vegeta's looks or physical fitness. That probably meant that he couldn't even come close to comparing to Vegeta's physical ability. And if she was aware of anything from her talk with Chichi second period, it was that a school was like the animal world. The most powerful boy was the Alpha Male of the school and the most attractive girl was the bitch of the school. She had also learned from Chichi about the lower classes, middle classes, higher classes and another group referred to as the royalties. If what Chichi said was true, then Vegeta and a girl named Maron were the head of the royalty class. If she wasn't mistaken, Maron was the name of the girl that she had described as ditzy…. The one that was put between her and Vegeta in Chemistry class. An involuntary and yet silent growl erupted at the base of her throat. She liked her body's response to the threat. Maybe should could fit into this jungle better than she thought.

"You give him credit that he doesn't deserve, Bulma," Yamcha said, "He's not a good person. I'd advise you to stay away from him. He only knows what it means to hurt people. He can never be a good friend. He's not trustworthy. He's trash. That's all he is. Just trash. Trust me."

"Miss?" Mr. Gohan asked, "It's your turn."

"Oh," Bulma started, "I'm sorry. My name is Bulma and I…" Bulma paused, and then said the first thing that came to mind. It was also the thing that most people found of interest. "I have been homeschooled for my entire life. This is my first day of real school."

"And how's that goin' for ya?" a boy called to her. Bulma looked over, but didn't know who asked the question. She noticed Vegeta look up for a moment at the question. Bulma faced Mr. Gohan and answered instead of trying to find out who the question's owner was.

"It's… interesting, I guess. There are a lot of things that I've never encountered before here."

"Well, you can come encounter me if you'd like," the same voice said, and Bulma looked over in time to catch who had said it. It was the same boy that had yelled at her for cutting him in the lunch line. Sharpner, if she remembered correctly, was his name. "And then you'll encounter a _bunch_ of new things," he added, and a few other boys that looked to be his cronies whistled at the apparently, double-meaning comment.

"That's enough, Sharpner," Mr. Gohan said harshly, and Bulma wondered what they had meant from the comment and why they had whistled after it had been said. She had never heard something like that before. Was it supposed to be offensive in some way? Was it directed at her? Were they making fun of her? Did Mr. Gohan reprimand them because they were insulting him instead? Bulma had no idea. She glanced over at Vegeta to find a scowl on his face, and it was directed at Sharpner. Bulma wondered what they had meant. Vegeta's reaction made her feel like she needed to know what she had missed. "Thank you, Miss Bulma. You there," he said, pointing to Yamcha, "You can go next."

Yamcha smiled and stood up, ready to address the class. Bulma raised a fine eyebrow, wondering why he would stand up.

"Sit down, Yammy!" a boy mockingly screeched from their right. Bulma looked over and glared at the black haired boy. He was one of the boys who had whistled before. "This ain't no comedy act!" And then he burst out laughing at his own lame joke, his buddies laughing at his side. Bulma watched as Yamcha's face went red and he sat back down.

"I think I'll pass," he said softly, and Bulma threw him an apologetic look.

"Will you boys be quiet?" Mr. Gohan reprimanded again. "I'm sorry for the interference," he said to Yamcha, "You may continue. These immature boys won't interrupt you anymore."

As Yamcha made to open his mouth, the bell rang for the class to be over and he embarrassedly watched as the group of "immature boys" exited the classroom, chanting something and then laughing absurdly about whatever they had said, flinging their arms into the air as they did so. Yamcha swiftly got up and left before Bulma could get a chance to stop him.

She pulled out her neatly folded schedule and looked at her next class. It was Spanish in room number fifty-four. She had no idea where that was, so she just made a right out of the classroom she had previously occupied and went down a hallway that she hadn't yet gone down. She spotted the familiar spiky black hair a few yards ahead of her in the crowd and followed after it, hoping to dear God that she wouldn't make a fool out of herself. She watched as he continued down the hallway. Up ahead, Bulma spotted room number fifty-four and mentally leaped for joy. But then he continued forward and entered room number fifty-five and Bulma's heart dropped into her stomach. She solemnly entered her classroom and noticed no one that she recognized. A part of her was glad that Yamcha wasn't in this class, but then she wondered if he was skipping because of what had happened. She mentally labeled him as a Drama Queen, fully aware that he was a boy. Although it was rude and inappropriate for those boys to make fun of him, Bulma labeled him as a queen because she thought that only girls cried. Boys swung a few punches and then they became best friends. She guessed that there were probably quite a few male Drama Queens in a high school, especially this one. It was just her luck that one happened to take a liking to her.

She sighed and sat down in the faraway seat in the back right corner of the room. She felt like this would be a nice class to be isolated in. She had made enough friends to last her more than one lifetime, and she knew that more would probably be suicide. She wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep on her king-sized bed in her room fit for a princess… or two… or three. She mentally shrugged to herself.

The class passed by slowly. Because it was the first day, there was no work that was assigned. The teacher took attendance and then ignored the class for the next half an hour. She noted how Yamcha's name wasn't called so decided that he wasn't skipping. She felt bad about feeling the way she did, but it was pleasant having a period where no one could bother her about useless stuff like insults and… Drama. She was already sick and tired of it, and now she realized that she'd have to deal with it seven hours a day, five days a week. She could feel some nausea coming on.

After boredom had almost killed her, Bulma was surprisingly rejuvenated by the horrible high-pitched sound of the school bell. She was glad that her last period class was Art, and she was also happy that Goku and Chichi were in that class with her. The fact that Vegeta was also there made her nerves flinch, but she tried not to let it bother her too much.

She made her way to her last room. She had passed it before so it had been relatively easy to locate.

"Bulma!" Chichi exclaimed, running over to her as soon as she entered the room. "We're sitting over here. Come on," she urged, pushing her forward.

Bulma found everyone sitting at the giant wooden desk. There were also a couple new people sitting with them. She had heard from behind her that their art class was held in the woodshop, so the metal stools and thick wooden tables that looked more like islands were sort of expected in her point of view.

She found Vegeta complaining to Goku again about something. He looked to be in a better mood though, which was a good sign. But he had complained in Chemistry as well. She wondered what was on his mind. She knew that it didn't take much to bother him, but he seemed to get over things relatively quickly. Except for whatever he was currently talking about.

"It's Maron," Chichi whispered, noticing her watching Bulma stare at Vegeta and Goku.

"What?" she asked, breaking her concentration and turning to the black-haired girl who apparently had the answers she was looking for.

"Maron has been trying to get Vegeta to go out with him all day," she giggled, "She refuses to leave him alone. She's been following him around and pestering him all day long. I just figured that out last period from Goku. I knew something had to be wrong. Vegeta usually isn't in _this_ bad of a mood. I mean, he's always a bit irritating with his temper and all, but he's not usually so nasty to everyone, especially us, because we're his friends. The only person he hasn't yelled at all day is Goku, and that's if you consider the yelling that he's doing now… well, _not_ yelling, I guess. That's kind of usual… for Vegeta…" Chichi just stopped talking, at a loss for words at that point. Bulma guessed that there was just no accurate way to describe a person like Vegeta. But _Maron_? That was some interesting news indeed…

The teacher took attendance, like in every other class, and then let everyone talk their hearts out.

"Hey guys," Chichi said to the two people that were unknown to Bulma, "This is Bulma. Bulma, meet Tien and 18."

"Hi Bulma," Tien said. He raised a hand in greeting. 18 just nodded at her, clearly showing that she wasn't the talking type of person. Bulma admired her beautiful blonde hair, which was obviously natural. Goku and Vegeta came over to the table as well after attendance. Goku looked like he had just run a couple miles. Bulma softly giggled. She mentally joked that Vegeta's complaining wore him out a bit.

"I'm having a party on Friday," Chichi said, motioning to Bulma, "Everyone is going to be there. You want to come? I'm officially inviting you," she smiled.

Bulma curiously took in the information. She had never been to a party with teenagers. She had read about things like that in stories, and had often thought about going to one, but she never believed that she would actually be invited. The second thing that crossed her mind was that when Chichi said "everyone", did she mean " _everyone_ "?

A party with Vegeta. She could envision it quite clearly. With all the movies she'd seen and the stories she'd read, parties were where true love blossomed.

She shook her head vigorously. What in the world was she thinking? True love? Bleh. That's what she had to say about that. And what the hell was true love anyway? Just something people made up to put in their stories. And why did she think of Vegeta? It wasn't like she loved him. She barely knew the guy, and what she did know about him was that he was prideful, arrogant and had a short temper. That wasn't love…

"I'll see if I can come. I might be busy this Friday," Bulma replied, not wanting to let her friend down immediately. The main reason for her response was to give herself a way out if she decided that she didn't want to go after considering whether or not it would be okay for someone like her to go.

"I hope you can," Chichi mock-whined, bending her legs a bit for exaggeration. "It will be so much fun. I promise. You'll love it." Chichi then turned to Vegeta, figuring that if she wanted Bulma to be there… "Hey, Vegeta? Are you coming this Friday?"

Vegeta's head turned in her direction. Bulma saw a firm scowl placed on his face. She then noticed Chichi's face go a bit pinker than usual. Had she missed something?

After a couple minutes of silence passed by and the regular color came back to Chichi's face, everyone at their table went back to talking to one another. Bulma, craving for her curiosity to be satiated, leaned towards Chichi.

"What was that all about?" she asked, hoping she wouldn't get an "Oh, nothing" kind of answer from the black-haired girl.

"Well," Chichi muttered, careful not to let anyone hear her speaking about something that was obviously labeled as forbidden when it came to daily conversation topics. "18 had a party a year or so ago, and I guess I forgot about that when I asked Vegeta if he wanted to come to my party this Friday." Bulma raised her eyebrows in anticipation, edging Chichi to spill every bit of the information she was aware of. "I don't know how to put it without… Let's just say that he had a little too much alcohol that night…"

"What happened?!" Bulma blurted out. She embarrassedly turned around to see if anyone was staring at her, especially Vegeta, to find that they were all too engrossed in their own gossip to really care when one person yelled out the most common phrase when talking about things involving gossip.

"I don't quite remember all the details. I only heard about it. I wasn't in the same room when it happened. Actually, I think Goku and I had left the party early because he had to be somewhere before midnight. So, naturally, I went with him. But what I heard was that he did something that literally, like _completely_ solidified his position in our school. You know, like him being a big shot and all. Not to mention with the girls." She stuck out her tongue in disgust, especially with Maron at that moment in time. "And everything else I heard just revolves around the fact that everyone but Vegeta thinks that a mix with him and being drunk go hand-in-hand… I guess…"

Bulma didn't know what to say to get Chichi to keep talking, so she sat there, on her metal stool, leaning on the wooden table, with her mouth slightly open, saying nothing.

"Other than that," Chichi continued, seeing as Bulma was dying for more information, "The only thing I can think of is that he was mostly showing off. Apparently, he's strong. And I don't mean "going to the weight room everyday" strong. I mean _unnaturally_ strong. It was like he was a different type of breed or something. I don't even know how to say it. It's like he's Superman, you know. That's why everyone's always staying out of his way. That's why all the girls are basically in love with him. He did something that, after he realized that he had been drunk, he knew he shouldn't have done. And, like usual, the entire school already knew about it."

"You're joking, right?" Bulma asked, not believing the entire story. And besides, Chichi had only heard it from someone else. It wasn't like she actually _saw_ what happened, because she just admitted that she hadn't seen anything. She had left the party early.

"No. I swear, every word is true… And just between you and me… I know about his… abilities because he helped me build my shed a few months before the party. I tried to figure out what he did to give himself away like that. I mean, it must have been something pretty obvious to get the entire school to know about it. So I asked him about it, but he wouldn't tell me. So I had to go to 18 to figure it out, and guess what she told me. Guess what he did."

"What? What did he do?" Bulma asked, about to fall off of her seat.

"You're not going to believe this… He did _pushups_."

"… Huh? But… _everyone_ can do pushups. Hell, even _I_ can do pushups, Chichi. That doesn't tell me anything!"

"Hold on. I'm not done yet. You want to know how many he did?"

Bulma nodded.

"He did one thousand, seven hundred and eighty-five pushups. And that's not all," she quickly added. "You want to know what he did after _that_?"

Bulma nodded so hard she thought her neck was going to snap right in half.

"Well, Maron was drunk as well at that point in the night. I think it was almost one in the morning by then. She grabbed a bunch of her friends (I think it was four or five of them) and they all sat on Vegeta's back while he did one thousand, seven hundred and eighty-six _more_ pushups, just to prove his point. And that's not all…"

Bulma wanted to scream at her to just tell her. The anticipation was eating away at her lifespan. She felt like she would suffocate if Chichi didn't tell her fast.

" _And_?" she pressed.

"This is the reason why he won't go to parties anymore."

"Just _tell_ me, Chichi. Please!"

"Don't worry. I'm getting there. Settle down, Bulma."

Chichi adjusted herself on her metal stool and Bulma felt like ripping out the girl's fucking windpipe and going to ask someone else. Preferably someone who didn't pause after every sentence to make sure they had Bulma's undivided and _full_ attention, even when they knew that they had it. She then had to officially label Chichi as the top gossiper in the high school. It was only expected, considering the mind games she was currently playing with Bulma.

"Maron danced topless on Vegeta's back while he did one thousand, seven hundred and eighty-seven _more_ pushups on top of the dinner table, just to prove his _third_ point. And, hell, Maron didn't even have her bra on. Can you believe that? I sure couldn't at first. Well, anyway, ever since then, Maron's been, like stalking Vegeta. She thinks that because he did that and a few other things with the bitch while he was drunk that night that he's in _love_ with her or something. All Vegeta really wants is to be left alone. Ever since then, everyone's been bothering him about it. Girls have constantly bothered him and boys have started fights because of many different reasons. Some have inferiority issues and tried to hurt him thinking that the stories weren't true, or that they wanted to be known as "the guy who beat up Vegeta". Apparently they set their hopes and dreams way too high for themselves. Big mistake that was. A few of those types never even came back to the school. Either they were too embarrassed or too afraid. One guy even tried to _kill_ him because his girlfriend dumped him just so she could hang around Vegeta, who actually had no interest in her whatsoever. Sheesh, the guy even brought in a knife. That was an even bigger mistake than the first one, though. Vegeta isn't one for rules and regulations, if you know what I mean." She looked over one last time to see if Vegeta knew what they were talking about, but he was still preoccupied, what with complaining about Maron bothering him again to a worn-out Goku.

"Wait a second," Bulma said, catching onto something Chichi had slightly mentioned beforehand. "You said that the pushups with Maron… you know, dancing on top of him, wasn't the _only_ thing he did with her. What else did he do?"

Just then, the bell rang for the day to be over, and as Chichi opened her mouth to answer Bulma's question, Goku took her by the hand and pulled her away. She didn't look back as the two of them exited the door and went out into the hallway. She then followed Tien out the door and made her way to the front lobby and then the parking lot. Her bright white car was easy to spot, and she had no problem getting into it. There still weren't any other cars parked around her parking space, which was nice. She also noted how the sky had cleared up. She looked above and found that no clouds were above her. The entire sky was covered with a light blue hue that seemed to brighten up the day in more ways than one.

 _I guess Mother Nature decided not to be a bitch today_ , Bulma thought.

She got into her car and began the short ride home with Vegeta on her mind.


	3. No Answer

**Chapter Two: No Answer**

Bulma sat up in her bed. The light blue sheets had no stains on them. To be honest, last night was only the second time she had even slept on them. That also meant that it was the mattress's second time being slept on as well. It hadn't yet adjusted to the full shape of her, but Bulma knew that all good things came in due time. And that included being able to fit in the perfectly snug dent in a brand new mattress.

Bulma looked around. Basically everything in the entire house was new. She looked over at her unpacked bags. Most of her things had been set up the day before last, but there were still a few packs that were left undisturbed.

It was about six in the morning. Bulma enjoyed getting up early, and because of her unsatisfied boredom the night before, she had gone to bed early. It was nice not having loads of homework on her first day at school. Her parents used to give her little vacations throughout the year as a break from her work, but when they started up again, her mother was fond of "getting her back into the flow of things," as she liked to put it. Her father felt the same way, but he never openly admitted it, especially in front of Bulma's mother. Sometimes, she had issues with credit for things, and people found it best to just let her do her own thing and keep her own ideas for herself. Bulma used to make fun of her mother by saying that her favorite color was the same as her mother's, even when she would purposefully change it daily just to try and get away from whatever color Bulma had claimed was her favorite for the day.

Bulma giggled softly and made her way to her bathroom pack. An ordinary person would have called her insane with such a huge bag for only bathroom stuff, but Bulma wasn't an ordinary person. Besides, the essentials were sometimes different in her point of view, especially when it came to bathroom stuff.

At the top of the stairs was a master bathroom, fit for a princess. She dropped her pack in the middle of the room, which could easily fit over fifteen people inside. She unzipped the zipper and pulled out the first couple items that she had put in last when she packed. Three orange rugs were placed on the floor two under each sink, connected by a light tan marble counter, and one the fit around the foot of the toilet. She then went back to her pack and noticed that there were no more rugs. The mansion had four bathrooms in it, but she was living alone until her parents stopped by for visits every now and again. So, she decided that she would only use this one. It would also be a lot less to clean.

Bulma was alone to unpack and get settled as she pleased, a feat she thought would have been nearly impossible at that time. It felt nice to be alone though. She didn't have to smile at anyone or look pleased that someone was keeping her company. And the silence was as loud as she could handle. Bulma noticed when a few tears escaped from her. She would miss her parents. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been without them, if she ever had to begin with.

She pulled out her multitudes of shampoo. It was a bit hard to find the right kind for naturally blue hair… There was a big cabinet that fit all of her showering things quite nicely. She opened the cabinets below the sinks and shoved in a few creams, lotions, deodorant, tampons, razors, soaps, hand soap containers, powder, and anything else she found in her pack. She then took out a nail and a hammer, since she knew she would need it for something else, and hammered the piece of metal into the wall. She grabbed a small cabinet that had been a gift from an aunt and hung it on the nail. The small wooden frame was hand-painted by her aunt. It was covered in paintings of different seashells. Bulma involuntarily smiled at the thoughtful gift.

She dug through her pack until she found a smaller pack and pulled it out. It took a bit of force, but she got it out eventually. Inside were her makeup and other things along those lines. She pulled out her six different tubes of mascara, liquid and powder cover-up, every color eye shadow, different shades of pink blush and liquid and pencil eyeliner. Looking over her belongings, she thought that many people would give a lot for the material things she had. Looking over her belongings again, she decided that she probably wouldn't use them that much anyway. In her point of view, there was way too much stuff for just her. Maybe she'd give some of them to Chichi. She would most likely appreciate it, and most of Bulma's things were unopened anyway, so no harm there.

She went back to her room and checked the time. It was six-thirty. School started at about seven-thirty, but people started arriving at about seven-fifteen. She changed her clothes into a dusky purple, hundred-percent cotton t-shirt and a regular pair of blue jeans. Looking over the white stains on her knees, she remembered that these were the pants that she had worn to Egypt when her mother was called down there to analyze some historical artwork. The white stains were from bending down in the hot sand. She smiled at the memory of her mother being heavily thanked for her outstanding and unexpected work on the project. She remembered how proud she had been of her mother in that moment.

She quickly opened the old pine dresser from when her mother had bought it for her only a few weeks ago and pulled out gym clothing. She shoved it into her pack and continued thinking about random things.

Orange Star High School had a frightening total of about three thousand students. Bulma had been told that some schools were large, population-wise, but three thousand hormone-stricken teenagers was a mouthful to swallow.

She added a light blue bird-of-hope necklace that rested directly below the dip in her throat as a final addition to her outfit. She threw on some socks, grabbed her pack and headed back to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair. When that was finished, she lifted her pack off the orange rug and made her way down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. It was now almost seven, so she decided to skip breakfast. She grabbed some cash off the hutch in the dining room and looked at it. It was the change from yesterday's lunch. The change from the lunch that Vegeta had paid for… She let slip one final heartfelt smile until she pulled on some sneakers and was out the door in a flash.

She got into her car and checked the time after she had started the engine of the small white vehicle. Part of her just wanted to drive her normal red mustang convertible to school, but soon realized that it wouldn't actually be all _that_ normal.

It was seven-ten. Bulma stepped on the gas pedal and began the short drive to Hell.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"Hey! Bulma, over here!" Chichi called. Bulma looked over as she stepped out of the small car, banging her head on the ceiling as she reached for her shoulder bag. She rubbed the top of her head as she closed the door and walked over to her waving, black-haired friend. Goku was, of course, with her as they held hands in the parking lot. Tien and 18 from the day before were also standing there. And so were a couple others that Bulma hadn't met before. She sighed when Vegeta was nowhere in sight.

"Hi, Chichi," Bulma said as she got closer to the group of friends. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and looked at the new people. Well, new to her at least.

"Bulma," Chichi said, waving a hand in the others' direction, "This is Krillin, 17, who is 18's brother, Raditz, and Launch."

"Pleased to meet you all. My name's Bulma," she greeted them, slightly bowing her head out of habit.

"The pleasure is mine," 17 said, lifting and kissing her hand. Bulma blushed.

"Cut it out, 17," 18 ordered, "You're nauseating her." Bulma silently wondered what kind of relationship the two siblings had with each other. Her first reaction was that it was an odd pair. She glanced at Raditz, who nodded his acknowledgement at her. She recognized Launch from her Chemistry class the day before. She had been placed at the last lab desk with another girl, to the far left of Bulma and Yamcha's table.

Thinking of Yamcha made her turn around and nonchalantly look for him. When she didn't find him anywhere outside in the parking lot, she wondered if he was okay. Those boys had been really mean to him back in their history class.

"Vegeta!" Chichi called, waving an arm and snapping Bulma out of her search. As soon as she turned around and saw him, swinging a leg over a black motorcycle, she had forgotten all about Yamcha. If she hadn't had such excellent control over herself, she might have actually drooled at the sight of him in all his magnificent glory.

Vegeta pulled off his black leather jacket and swaggered over to them, not bothering to even lock his shiny black ride against the metal fence ahead of his parking space. His jacket was swung over the seat and he just left it there. Swinging the keys into his pocket, he finally reached them. Bulma thought that watching him walk towards her had taken over an hour. She also guessed that the reason why he would just leave his things there was because not even the toughest guy in school would dare try and steal anything from him. Well… the _second_ toughest. Vegeta couldn't exactly steal his own belongings, now could he?

The bell instantly rang as Vegeta arrived next to them, causing Bulma to jump. The first thing that crossed her mind was that her and Vegeta had the same first period together, so maybe they could… walk together? She knew that she would never get the real answer just by mentally asking herself. But she also knew that she was too chicken to ask actually ask Vegeta if he'd walk with her. She would end up passing out before the words even came up her throat.

"Are you coming," an aggravated voice called, and Bulma turned to find that everyone was heading into the building. Vegeta was turned towards her a few yards away with the usual annoyed expression on his face. Bulma's heart skipped a beat. At least she didn't have to worry about asking him any longer. She felt deeply honored to have been asked by him. It felt much better than if she would have asked him herself. Even if his answer had been yes.

"Yeah, I'm coming," she said, readjusting her pack again and jogging towards him. When she caught up, he turned and began walking again. "Sorry about that," she said, "I just wasn't paying very good attention."

"That depends on what was holding your attention, woman," he said flatly, not turning to look at her as he spoke, "Or _whom_." Bulma blushed. She hoped she hadn't been that obvious about it.

Thoughts of the previous day entered her mind. Vegeta held the schools front door open for her as she walked under his outstretched arm. He followed in after her and scowled as soon as he entered.

"What wrong?" Bulma asked.

"Our class is _this_ way," he said, pointing in the opposite direction that she was heading.

"Oh…" she replied, turning on her heel and following after him. She noticed how she now had to pick up her own pace to keep up with his. AKA, she noted how he sped up when he was annoyed with her. She took the mental note and placed it in the back of her mind.

The next thing she noticed was how everyone was staring at her again. Actually, they were more like glares and glowers. She watched as some dreamy-eyed girls watched Vegeta as he ignored them and walked by, Bulma in tow. She also began to notice how some of the boys no longer backed out of Vegeta's way. Instead, they were intently watching her, as the girls did to Vegeta. She wondered what something like that could mean. Had hanging out with Vegeta and his friends put her in the higher class society of high school?

"Hey, Vegeta!" a boy called, and Bulma turned to find that it was Sharpner, the blonde pretty-boy that she hadn't grown too fond of over the past twenty-four hours. She saw Vegeta's expression change from bad to worse, the same as he did yesterday to her at the lunch table. She wondered if Maron was still bothering him about going out on a date. Part of her sort of wanted to set that girl straight. It was clear as day that Vegeta felt bothered by her, especially by his horrible attitude when entering history class.

"Oh, great," Bulma heard him mumble. "Is that the sound of an idiot I hear?" he asked himself, a little louder so everyone around him could hear the satirical question.

"Vegeta! I have to talk to you!" Sharpner said, and Bulma thought she heard a threat in his voice, but she couldn't have been sure. Besides, what had Vegeta ever done to him anyway?

Sharpner's hand made contact with Vegeta's shoulder and he turned the spiky-haired teen around with force _not_ to be reckoned with. It was more like he tried and Vegeta had turned around out of his own free will, not by any force whatsoever.

"You know, I think it was the sound of me _not caring_." Vegeta shoved Sharpner's hand off of his shoulder and grabbed Bulma's upper arm, dragging her along with him to their first period class. She stumbled a bit at first, but soon found the perfect speed for her to walk at without being dragged on the floor of the hallway.

"Vegeta," Bulma yelped, feeling a painful tug on her shoulder, "Please, stop. You're hurting me." She thought it might have actually popped out if she hadn't said something. And luckily, he let go of her without having to throw her anywhere first.

They came to room number thirty-five and entered the room. Most of the seats were taken, but apparently everyone knew to stay out of Vegeta's seat. Bulma was a bit surprised to find her own seat was unoccupied as well. She decided that their seats from the previous day were probably the ones every teen had chosen to be their seat for the rest of the year. Her heart skipped another short beat at the thought that she got to sit next to her dream boy for the entire year. And at the rate her heart was skipping beats, she was going to be dead soon.

Bulma dropped her bag at the tiled floor below her metal chair as Vegeta walked around the black table to get to his seat on the left side of her. Bulma sat down and waited.

After the second bell rang, Mr. Piccolo entered the classroom, holding a pile of papers.

"Ms. Briefs!" he called, "Since you got the highest grade in the class, you get to pass out everyone's graded pop quizzes from yesterday. Congratulations."

Bulma got up from her seat, wincing at the loud noise it made when the metal chair scraped against the tiled floor. No one else cared, but she felt her face turn a bit redder than usual. She tried to look graceful as she stepped down to grab the papers off Mr. Piccolo's desk, but knew that she was failing epically at her own self-made challenge. So, she instead decided on compelling her face to stay the same color that it had originally been.

"Thank you," Bulma said when Mr. Piccolo lifted the pile up for her to grab without looking at her. She saw him slightly nod, but nothing else.

As she had expected, her paper was on top of the pile. She went to her seat and dropped it off, glancing at the one hundred percent on the top, next to her name. The second paper was Vegeta's. He had been given a ninety-eight. She wondered which question he had gotten wrong, but didn't dare look like she wanted to know. She handed him his paper and looked at the next one. It belonged to a girl named Angela. She looked around the room, fully realizing the extent of what this task entailed. She would have to learn everyone's name. And fast.

"Right there." Vegeta pointed past her. "Pink shirt, orange hair," he said, refocusing on his quiz. Bulma knew it was deliberate.

"Oh, thanks," Bulma replied, walking over to Angela and handing her the quiz. Bulma didn't mean to look at the grade, but she noticed that the grade was a forty-six. She felt bad for the orange-haired girl, but mentally laughed at how smart she was in comparison. "Do you know who this is?" Bulma asked Angela, and she was given the answer. And that was how she passed out all the quizzes. She asked the person she was handing the quiz to who the next person was, and so on. It was a miracle that everybody knew everybody else… except for her, of course.

When all the quizzes were handed out to everyone, Bulma returned to her seat and sighed at the stupid adventure she had just been forced to endure.

Mr. Piccolo stood up in front of the class and looked around for a moment. He was throwing a rubber band ball up and down in one hand as he glanced at everyone, locking eyes with every student in the room, gathering up everyone's attention. Bulma wished he would just drop the damn thing already and give everyone a reason to be happy again. The aura in the room was absolutely horrible. She mentally joked on if the cause was Mr. Piccolo or Vegeta. Each was highly likely in her point of view.

"All right, you little worms," he began, taking Bulma by surprise at the insult. _Weren't teachers not supposed to do stuff like that?_ she thought, almost out loud. "Your grades for my class are extremely low, so you're going to have to pay attention very carefully from now on. I know you're upset about that quiz we just had, but I promise that it won't count for that much if you get outstanding grades from here on out. But, if you shirkers decide to slack off, then you'll pay for it, I swear." Bulma gulped. And she was the person with the highest grade in the class. She felt bad for everyone else. This was the strictest teacher she had yet encountered, _by_ _far_. She didn't have a problem with getting outstanding grades, as he had put it. That wasn't an issue in the slightest. It was the fact that he hadn't taught the rest of the class the information before he handed out the quizzes. Was he going to do that all year? God, she hoped not. Even _she_ had her limits when it came to knowledge. Another thought that entered her mind was that if Vegeta's grades started to go down, he would be in even worse of a mood than usual, and it would be constant. She could feel the headache coming on already.

For the rest of class, Mr. Piccolo wrote things down on the board while everyone else took notes diligently. Bulma never looked Vegeta's way, for fear of being caught by him, but she noticed how he glanced at her a couple times. That simple fact made it harder for her to concentrate. And besides, she knew everything Mr. Piccolo was writing on the board anyway. It wasn't like all of her attention had to be on what he was teaching. Unlike everyone else, who were solely focused on bringing up their previous quiz grades.

When the bell rang, Bulma grabbed her things and made her way to her human behavior class, waving to Vegeta as she left. He didn't wave back.

The only things that were now going through her mind were questions about her spiky-haired dream boy. Memories of her and Chichi's previous discussion in art class flowed through her mind like a raging river.

"Chichi!" Bulma exclaimed as the black-haired girl entered the classroom and took her seat.

"Hey, Bulma. What's up?" she asked, placing her backpack down just as the bell rang. A few people rushed into the room at the last minute, glancing at Miss Misuka to see if she was going to write them up a detention for it. But the teacher was still engrossed in that outrageously thick book of hers. Bulma smiled at her luck at having this class with a friend.

"I have so many questions. You left me dangling yesterday, Chichi!" she laughed.

"Listen, Bulma," Chichi began, "Vegeta has been my friend for god knows how long. Since I've been going out with Goku, I guess. And that's been over four years at least, by now. I already feel bad about telling you everything I did. I don't want to betray the little bit of trust I have with Vegeta. You understand, don't you, Bulma?"

"Of course, Chichi, but I was just wondering what Maron and Vegeta did other than what you told me. Because you said that Vegeta—"

" _Please_ , Bulma," Chichi said, "I really don't think I should be talking about it."

"Oh… Well, okay… If you really feel that way."

Bulma put her head down on the table in front of her. After being such a gossip queen the other day, Bulma couldn't believe her ears. Maybe Chichi had attention issues. _Who knows?_ she thought to herself.

"Do you want to talk about something else? I heard you and Vegeta aren't arguing anymore. I heard he walked you to class again this morning, too," she said, smirking at the new piece of gossip. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"More like he dragged me and I had no choice but to walk with him, otherwise I'd have floor-burn on my face and ass." Chichi laughed and Bulma did the same. It was kind of funny. "Oh, and there was this guy, Sharpner. He said he had to talk to Vegeta about something, but Vegeta made up some awesome comeback and the guy never got to talk to him. I thought that was pretty funny."

"Did you say _Sharpner_?" Chichi asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Vegeta and Sharpner are like, rivals or something. They really hate each other. If it ever looks like a fight is going to break out between those two, I'd advise you to turn tail and run for dear life."

"Huh? Why do they hate each other so much?"

"Vegeta's friend, I don't remember her name right now, dated Sharpner a few years back. He cheated on her with Maron (big surprise) and… Well, she changed dramatically. So much that she began to stop eating and sleeping. She was really in love with that bastard, and it was so obvious to everyone around her how much she cared about him. I remember how it also hurt Vegeta. After a while, she moved away and no one has seen her since. Not even Vegeta. I remember him trying to call her almost every hour. After a few days of not hearing from her, Vegeta left to look for her. He had no idea where she had gone, so he was searching for a while. It took him almost four months to finally give up looking. He came back to school after that. He's hated Sharpner ever since then. None of us have seen or heard from the girl. I think I remember her name now. I think it was… No, I can't remember. Sorry."

"That's horrible. Where could she be?"

"I don't know. Anywhere, I guess."

"What happened to Sharpner?"

"Nothing, really. He was given a few threats from Vegeta, but no fights started. He may not seem like it, but Vegeta isn't one to start a fight. Even with all the fights he's gotten himself into, he was never the one to throw the first punch. Sometimes I wonder if he sits by himself, hoping that Sharpner will just come up to him and punch him. It would give him the excuse he needed to beat him from an inch of his life. But Sharpner never made the move. So no fights ever started between them. Sometimes I wonder whether or not Sharpner's waiting for Vegeta to throw the first punch, instead of him doing it, you know? All I know is that, if a fight ever started between the two of them, it would be best if no one was around. I can guarantee that someone will get hurt, and it may be someone watching, too."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep it in mind from now on," Bulma said, wondering about the girl that Sharpner had cheated on. _If Vegeta left to look for her for four months, she must have meant a lot to him_ , she thought. _And he hasn't heard from her since. That must be_ _heartbreaking_. It was hard to believe that someone like Vegeta had a heart, but Bulma guessed that that was why she found him so special. Because she knew that, deep down, he had a heart. Or had one in the past at least. _Maybe the girl left with it_ , she pondered. Every time she heard something new about Vegeta, it just made her want to get to know him even more than before.

"And that's also part of the reason why he doesn't like Maron. For all we know, she probably planned to ruin Sharpner and the girl's relationship. She's a bitch, so I wouldn't put it past her. We all know that she's a whore. That incident only proved everyone's assumptions and made them well known facts."

The rest of the period was just annoying talk about how idiotic Maron was. By the time the bell rang, both Bulma and Chichi were fresh out of insults. It was horrible, but _awesome_.

Math went by slowly for Bulma because she knew no one in the class. She took notes on, once again, things she already knew, and was given a page of homework at the end of the period. Then she sat there for a few more minutes until the bell rang. Then it was time for Chemistry. She was prepared to talk to Yamcha, but wasn't surprised to find his seat empty when she walked into the classroom. She saw Maron sitting in her chair, and Vegeta followed in after her, scowling at the reminder about his shitty luck when it came to seating.

Bulma watched as he went to the front of the room to speak with their pregnant teacher with short brown hair. It looked like she tried to gel it this morning and was unsuccessful in the attempt. After a few moments, the teacher nodded and Vegeta strolled over to Bulma's lab table and sat down in Yamcha's unoccupied seat. Bulma turned her head at him in confusion.

"Mind if I sit here today?" he asked in a tone that revealed that she wasn't given the option to refuse. Bulma turned her head to look at Maron, who was looking at Vegeta as if he had just killed her family or something extreme like that. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were violent.

"Vegeta," she said in a sweet voice that Bulma envied, "You sit over here. Remember? Next to me. Not over there… next to _her_."

" _Her_?" Bulma found herself asking Maron, "You mean _me_? I'm _her_ to you?"

"Well, I don't know your name. What the fuck do you want me to call you? _Him_? I'm sorry. I didn't know you were secretly a man in disguise."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I get it, sweetheart. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with little me."

"Wait… What? I never said anything about a secret—"

"Just stop talking to her," Vegeta said, easily obtaining all of her attention.

"What secret?" Bulma asked him.

"It's nothing. You didn't say anything about a secret. She's just being an _idiot_." He said the last part loud enough for Maron to hear him. A few other girls in the classroom heard him as well and giggled at his insult to the Queen Bee.

"But then why did she say it?"

"She wants to start trouble because she's jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that I would rather sit next to you than her. But I can't blame myself," he shrugged, "She _is_ the most annoying person on the planet. In all honesty, I'd rather sit next to a starving lion than a moron like her."

"Vegeta, why do you hate me so much?" Maron called idiotically, leaning forward so she could see him past Bulma's head. "What did I ever do to you?"

"As I said, the most annoying on the planet," he repeated idly.

"You three, in the back," the teacher called, "May I start the lesson now? Or would you like for me to wait until you were finished talking."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and Maron guffawed at him.

"Yes, ma'am," Bulma said, folding her hands on top of the table, "We're sorry for the rude interruption. It won't happen again."

"I certainly hope not, Miss Briefs, or all three of you will be given detentions. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bulma replied, noting how Maron and Vegeta were still playing stupid little games with each other.

A few minutes into the lecture, Maron and Vegeta were still at it, meaning Maron was trying to get Vegeta's attention and he was ignoring her in response. Sometimes he even mumbled something that he wanted her to hear on purpose. Bulma swallowed hard, hoping they wouldn't get yelled at again. She didn't want to get in trouble because she was between the two of them.

"Everything she says to me," he whispered to Bulma, loud enough for Maron to hear him once again, "Brings me closer and closer to breaking. And I think I'm about to snap." Then he lowered his voice so that only Bulma could hear him, "I need my space. Why can't she see that?"

"Maybe because you're—"

"Because she's an idiot. That's why. I could've guessed!"

"Mr. Ouji!" the pregnant teacher called to Vegeta, whipping around at his comment. He paused and directed his glare at her. She wasn't supposed to be listening.

"Yes?" he asked sarcastically, resting his arms on the black-topped lab table in front of him.

"That is _it_. You two haven't stopped talking all period. I'd like to see you in the principal's office during your lunch periods. If I'm not mistaken, that would be period seven, lest you forget. And I certainly hope you don't, for your sakes. It's only the second day of school, Mr. Ouji. Let's not make this another habit, all right?"

"Wait," Bulma called, "Ma'am, I wasn't talking. I was just—"

"No excuses Miss Briefs. I'll see you in the principal's office seventh period. If you have something to say for yourself, then I'd suggest you say it _then_. You've already wasted enough of my class time. I will not let you disturb the class any longer. Is that understood?"

"… Yes, ma'am," Bulma said apologetically, putting her head down. Why was she in trouble so soon? Wasn't her first goal to not get in any unnecessary trouble? And here she was, being given her first detention of the year. The next time she saw her parents, she would have to tell them about this. High Schools were very unfair when it came to discipline in her point of view.

Then the teacher's word ran through her mind: "It's only the second day of school, Mr. Ouji. Let's not make this another habit, all right?" That was what she had said. What did she mean, _another_ _habit_? Had Vegeta done something wrong before? Was it last year? She didn't want to push her gossiping glossy-haired friend any more than she already had, but she knew she was going to have to ask Chichi about this.

She then thought about why she was constantly going to Chichi for information on Vegeta. Why was that? Wouldn't it be easier if she just asked Vegeta himself? She shrugged, wondering why she hadn't thought about that beforehand. But she decided to wait until after Chemistry because she had already gotten in trouble once. She didn't want to make a bad reputation for herself either on purpose or by accident. After the bell rang, Bulma and Vegeta avoided Maron and made their way to the gymnasium, Goku on their heels, eyes open for Chichi.

"Where are you going, woman?" Vegeta asked Bulma after a couple minutes of walking through the halls.

"To… gym?"

"Well, you have to change first, and as much as we'd love it if you did that in here with us, you have your own locker room. This is for the boys only. So unless you have something you need to tell me, get lost."

"Where am I supposed to go?" Bulma asked, looking around. There were any other doors except for classrooms.

"It's on the other side of the gym. Go down that hall, make a right, go down that hall, and then make another right. The girls' locker room should be the last door on your right. As long as you don't count the fire exit as the last door, you should be fine," he said, opening the door to the boys' locker room and stepping inside. "Right, right, and then the last door on your right," he said, "It shouldn't be all that difficult. Especially for a genius like you," he added. Bulma blushed and watched as the door shut behind him. He must have been referring to first period. She hoped he didn't think she was a nerd.

She found the first right with ease, came to the second right and found the fire exit. She giggled to herself and opened the last door. It wasn't marked, but the stench of sweat and too much perfume as she opened the door gave away what was inside. She flipped her pack onto her arm and shuffled through it until she found her clothes. Rounding the corner, she arrived at a sight that she'd thought only happened in movies. All the girls were changing their clothes in front of everyone else! Bulma had to force herself not to run for cover at the scene laid out before her. She quietly made her way to the bathroom stalls and decided to change in there instead. Getting almost naked in front of a bunch of girls was going to take some confidence and practice. And since she didn't have any confidence whatsoever, practicing was currently flying out the back window.

When her clothes were changed, she exited the stall and made her way to the corner, dropping off her bags there. She then headed for the door when her name was called by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Chichi," she said.

"Ready for gym?" she asked and Bulma shook her head nervously. Chichi laughed. "Don't worry about it. Nobody likes gym anyway. We all just do it because we have to. The boys, on the other hand, tend to enjoy it more than the girls because they have an excuse to beat each other up at certain things. They're so immature… … Especially _Goku_ …" They both laughed at that and made their way out into the gymnasium with everyone else.


	4. Softball and Detention

**Chapter Three: Softball and Detention**

Bulma and Chichi made their way out into the gymnasium with everyone. All the girls from the locker room were crowding together so as not to be left alone without someone to talk to. That was the last thing anyone would want on their first day of gym. That horrible feeling that everyone was watching you out of the corner of their eyes and you had no one to fall back on. And even though you were well aware that no one cared if you stood alone because they were all focused on the same thing you were. At that moment, Bulma was thankful that she had befriended Chichi and had someone to talk to. It would have made her face go red if she had to stand alone. _Especially_ when she noticed Vegeta exit the boys' locker room, followed by Goku.

Vegeta was in a dark blue wife beater and baggy blue gym shorts. Goku was wearing a blue t-shirt with orange gym shorts, but he was hardly on Bulma's mind with Vegeta standing right next to him. He looked so relaxed compared to everyone else, like he didn't give a care for anyone in the world. As if nothing mattered to him. He wasn't fidgety or glancing around at everyone else whom he believed was staring at him, which Bulma surprisingly noted was a lot of people. Instead, he talked calmly with Goku about something, who just nodded with a childish smirk on his face.

"… Isn't he?"

Bulma turned to her raven-haired friend. "Excuse me?"

"I said he's _gorgeous_ , isn't he?"

"Who?" Bulma said, hoping Chichi hadn't noticed the way she had been looking at Vegeta. It was more like _staring_ , anyway.

" _Goku_ , silly. Who else?" she giggled.

"Oh…" she replied, "Yeah." She turned her head back over to Vegeta's direction to find that he had moved. Bulma's blood warmed when she realized why. Maron was following him around the gym in a pair of black short shorts and an extremely tight tie-dye shirt that exposed a silver bellybutton ring and way too much skin for Bulma's liking.

"Oh, God," Chichi moaned, following Bulma's eyesight to Maron running after Vegeta, who was almost to them by now. Goku wasn't far behind.

Chichi walked over to Vegeta and nodded once as she passed him. Vegeta turned and stopped to Bulma's right. Instantly, her shorts felt a little _too_ short. She felt awkwardly exposed with him standing right next to her while she was wearing something other than jeans. Goku then came up to her left, and she felt even more uncomfortable. She knew it was crazy and unintentional, but she wanted to get away from him so as not to give Chichi the wrong idea and ruin their two-day friendship. She quickly shook off the outrageous feeling and turned her full attention to Chichi, who was now heading straight for Maron.

Yet, before anything could happen between them, the gym teachers called everyone from their class attendance. Bulma followed Chichi to happily find out that Maron was in a different class than them. She mentally did a happy dance at the good news.

When everyone's names had been called and the people who were absent were marked absent, everyone in the class was told that they were just going to play softball because nothing was planned for the first day of gym. This seemed a bit odd to Bulma, but it was apparently something that everyone was used to. She would have originally guessed that softball was as good a plan as any, but then she guessed not, shrugging to herself.

"Where are we going?" Bulma asked as they crossed the parking lots.

"The softball and baseball fields," Goku replied, "We always go up here. It's like the gym class _domain_ , if you know what I mean, other than the volleyball courts back inside, but we don't get to play that unless it's cold outside."

"Which I think is extremely stupid," Chichi added, "We should be able to pick what we want to play. Don't you think?"

Bulma just nodded, not really listening to Chichi as she looked ahead at Vegeta. A big hill came before the fields, and she watched in awe as his lower leg muscles moved flawlessly with every movement he made to walk up the steep hill, passing the metal wire fence with elegance to be admired for in a teenage boy. He had easily passed everyone else and was almost to the top of the grassy slope already. He looked so natural, as if the speed at which he was climbing the hill wasn't even making his legs work. The way his broad shoulders moved forward and back in rhythm with his thick arms made her want to drool. His tight shirt gave away every muscle in his chest, and now she could clearly see the defined layers of muscle on his neck and shoulder blades with the sunlight directly on him. He was an angel sent to torture her. That was all she could come up with. There was no other explanation—

Bulma let out a high pitched yelp as she slipped down the hill, her knee scraping the grass and dirt. She could instantly feel when the skin had come off and she was bleeding by the unique pain of having dirt and grass in a freshly opened scrape. And before she knew what was happening, she had rolled backwards to the bottom of the hill, scraping her back against the metal wire fence that blocked the sports equipment from accidentally rolling into the parking lot. She didn't think her back was cut enough to bleed because of, thankfully, her gym shirt.

"Miss Briefs!" the teacher called as the students stood around, staring at her. "Are you alright?" the teacher called to her again, this time running down the hill to meet up with her.

Feeling a presence next to her, she looked over to find Vegeta kneeling down next to her, looking over the scrape on her left knee. Her face instantly went scarlet. _Wait_ , she thought, _wasn't he just at the top of the hill? How did he…?_

"Miss Briefs!" the teacher called again, and Bulma wondered what yelling at her was supposed to accomplish.

"She's fine," Vegeta said, standing up to face the teacher as she finally reached the bottom of the hill. Bulma noticed how it had taken her about three seconds, which was way more than what Vegeta had done. The funny thing was that she hadn't even noticed him move. She hadn't seen him run to her or kneel down. And if she wasn't mistaken, then she hadn't blacked out, so that was no longer an option for an excuse.

"Excuse me," the teacher said, ignoring Vegeta's comment on his analysis of her scrape and even daring to push him out of the way to get by.

"Really," Bulma said, standing up as well, "I _am_ fine. Look," she added, hopping on her left foot. She was barely bleeding. There was only a bit of up-ripped skin. The tiny bit of blood that had leaked out was dried already and it had easily stopped.

"Do you want to go to the nurse?" the teacher asked, and Bulma just shook her head, giving emphasis to the fact that she had previously said that she was perfectly fine. "Are you sure?"

Bulma nodded once more before the teacher turned to walk back up the hill. Bulma looked around to find that Vegeta was back at the top of the hill. She guessed that he would have to have an overall excellent physical skill to be able to move so fast up such a steep hill. Then she thought about what Chichi had told her the previous day in art class. About the last time Vegeta was at a party. And how she had said that he helped her build a shed and that she knew he had better-than-average physical abilities. She wondered if that was why he could move so fast. But Chichi had also said that he didn't want to show everyone what he could do… So why do it now? … For her? She felt herself blush at the thought.

Everyone got into two single file lines, as if they already knew what to do. Bulma followed Chichi to the girls' line and was given a number which was supposed to be her team. Luckily, she was put on the same team as Chichi, who was currently upset because she wasn't with Goku. When Vegeta walked over to the outfield with Bulma, her heart did an expected jump.

"You forgot something," he said, handing her a left handed glove. "Don't want more than one accident per day," he added, smirking at her.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the glove and smiling at him. She shoved it on her left hand and watched as two girls fought over who would be the pitcher and who would be the catcher. When it was decided after a wasteful thirty seconds, the first pitch was thrown. Bulma tried to keep her eyes on the ball, but Vegeta was standing behind her in the outfield, waiting for a strong hit from one of the boys on the opposite team. She became nervous again, wishing she was wearing a longer pair of shorts. What if he was looking at her? What if he only took one glance at her for the entire game? She would want that one glance to be the best one she could give him, but she didn't know how to act. She didn't know if she should shove her chest out or suck in her stomach or push her butt up. She didn't know if she should run her hands through her hair or leave it be. She didn't know what to do with her arms. She could fold them across her puffed out chest, but that would give him the impression that she was insecure. She could just let them hang there, or place them on her hips. Or she could move them around as if she were blocking the sun out of her eyes or waving away a bug that was in her face. And then she couldn't figure out what to do with her legs. She didn't want to stand with them crossed to give him the impression that she really needed to use the restroom. She could place them straight or bend one knee. She could constantly move to make believe she was actually doing something or she could bounce up and down or pretend to kick a rock or something. She could place one foot flat on the ground and have her heel kicked out in front of the first with her toes facing upward. Overall, she had no idea what she should do to make him look at her.

"Miss Briefs! Pay attention!" the teacher called to her and she looked up and around to find that the ball had landed to her left. But before she could even bend over to grab it, Vegeta had run over and picked it up. He chucked it to first base, getting a player out, the first one of the inning.

"Sorry," Bulma said softly, well aware that at her current volume, no one would be able to comprehend or even hear her apology.

The next batter came forward and Bulma recognized Sharpner from his shiny blonde hair. Even though Vegeta didn't like him, she could understand why a girl would like him. He was muscular and his hair was gorgeous. Bulma came to the obvious conclusion that she should have come to a high school a hell of a lot earlier in her lifetime. She was now seeing what she had been missing her entire life, and she really liked it.

Sharpner took the pitch with a heavy swing and smashed the ball so that it flew way over Bulma's head. When she turned around to watch it fly, Vegeta was running towards its landing point. As the people all over the field watched him in anticipation, he reached the softball's intercept point and jumped, catching the ball for the second out of the inning. People cheered at him and his play as he threw the ball back to the pitcher's mound. Bulma didn't know what the big deal was about his "unique physical abilities". While he had been running, he had been going the same exact speed that everyone else would have gone when trying to catch a hit like that. It hadn't been anything special. She guessed that Chichi was exaggerating a bit when she had told her about him being able to move so fast. She wondered why she would have let the thought persist in her mind so much throughout the day. High school was probably just messing with her head more than she thought it would.

"Three outs!" the teacher called as a boy got out for being greedy and trying to reach the second base when it was plain and obvious that it would have been impossible for even a cheetah at its top preying speed.

After the third out, Bulma walked over to the bench area and dropped off her glove.

"Bulma!" a happy voice called, and she turned around to find that it was Yamcha. A part of her was happy about his unexpected arrival, but another part disliked it a bit.

"Hey, Yamcha. I didn't know you were in this class. Sorry I didn't see you before. My bad," she said, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment.

"I just noticed you were in this class as well. That's ironic, isn't it?"

Bulma smiled and nodded at him.

"But we're on opposite teams," he added with a frown, "I would have rather had you on my team," he whispered, making Bulma laugh. She handed him her glove and went to the benches to sit down, Vegeta right behind her.

"Boy-girl order, please!" the gym teacher called, "And don't make me repeat myself!"

A girl Bulma didn't know went up to bat first and made it to first base. Then, a boy she didn't know followed after, taking first and sending the girl to second. The girl that had fought over being the pitcher went next and filled up all three of the bases. Bulma noticed when everyone looked to Vegeta. She lightly elbowed him when the area went quiet.

" _What_?" he asked, clearly not wanting to be touched, let alone elbowed, by her. Bulma noted how a few girls looked satisfied by his apparently "acceptable" response.

Bulma nodded toward a small boy holding out a bat for the spiky-haired teen.

"The bases are full already?" he asked, seemingly knowing what they wanted. Bulma guessed that it came with his reputation for being physically superior.

He took the bat and went to home plate, banging the metal onto the sand, creating a good amount of dust. The pitcher threw the ball underhand and he didn't move as it whistled by him. The ball was thrown back to the pitcher and she tossed it underhand at him again. Once again, he didn't make a move. The ball was thrown back to the pitcher's mound. She rolled the softball in her hand and then threw it overhand, fast. Vegeta swung the bat and made contact with the ball. Bulma instantly felt bad for it, flinching away, seeing the evident force behind his follow-through swing. He dropped the bat and ran at a normal person's sprinting speed, which Bulma made sure of, to first base, then second, third base and, finally, home plate, sending everyone on each of the bases home.

After the clapping and cheering was over, their teacher announced that a girl needed to go next. Chichi shook her head violently at Goku when he motioned for her to go, so Bulma decided that now was as good a time as any. She grabbed the bat from the catcher from the opposite team and stepped up to home plate. She used to play baseball and softball with children in South America and southern Europe when her parents had conferences to go to. She never thought anything of it before, but was presently glad that she had given herself some practice in the past.

On the first pitch, she swung the bat and hit a grounder that was almost a foul. Dropping the bat in the sand, she ran and made it to first base just in time. Another boy she didn't know stepped up and hit the ball into the right field, giving her the opportunity to get to third base without any trouble at all.

After that, Chichi was shoved ahead. She didn't look like she was the type of person who felt safe with a metal bat in her hands. She looked nervous and Bulma could see the shiny sweat beads on her forehead, even from the distance away that she was from her.

Chichi tapped the ball on the second try. The pitcher ran forward and threw the ball to second base as Bulma sprinted forward, heading for home plate.

"Out!" she heard the teacher yell, and guessed that they had gotten the boy that had sent her to third two battings ago. Her foot slipped and she tripped over the sand. She was still on her feet, but she had passed home plate without actually stepping on it.

"Touch home, new girl!" she heard a boy yell and she spun around. It would only take a couple steps to reach it. She moved in what seemed like slow motion to her. One more step to go.

"Watch out! Here comes the ball!" a girl in the field yelled, and Bulma wasn't sure if the statement was directed towards her or anyone willing to listen. She took her final step and was relieved when her foot landed on the plate without being tagged out or seeing someone else's foot reach home plate before her.

"Look out!" another girl called.

She then looked up and her eyes opened wide in shock and fright. It looked to be way too late to dodge the softball that was now aiming straight for her head. She didn't care. She tried it anyway. She moved her head to the side and felt the ball tip the side of her face. It wasn't extremely painful, but it was enough to make her clutch her face and turn away. The teacher ran over to her and told her to sit down on the sand.

"Are you alright? That's twice now, Miss Briefs. Maybe it's time you took a break," she said in an I-told-you-so kind of tone. Bulma felt like slapping her, but knew that her parents would have to go out of their way to get involved, and that was the last thing she wanted to do, especially since her mother had specifically told her not to get into any trouble before the school year had even started.

"Are you alright?" the teacher asked again, seeing as she didn't answer the first time she was asked. "Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Can you stand up?"

Bulma nodded that she was okay and then looked over to find everyone staring at her as if she had just grown a tail. She wondered if they always did that to people who were injured in gym class.

"Everyone," the teacher called, "Take a walk around the field. We'll continue the game in a little while."

Bulma went pink. Why did the game have to stop because of this? She felt her face heat up with chagrin and made it a point to constantly look at the ground below her. She didn't want anyone to see the dramatic discoloration of her face. She then saw Vegeta's white shoes out of the corner of her eye and groaned to herself. Why the hell was he coming over? She was fine. There was nothing wrong. She was hit with a ball. _People get hit with balls all the time_ , she reassuringly thought to herself, and then shook her head, trying to get her mind out of the gutter for once in her life.

"Mr. Ouji," the teacher said, preparing to give him a task, "Could you please take Miss Briefs to the nurse's office?"

 _What?!_ Bulma thought. _No! Absolutely not! I'm perfectly fine. I don't need to be_ walked _anywhere. Especially by_ him _!_

She was pulled to her feet by her elbow and a big, firm hand was placed on the small of her back, turning her and leading her away from the softball field. Away from everyone else… She emotionally shivered. She loved his touch on her. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It sent influential shockwaves up and down her back.

"Are you going to make it down the hill without falling this time?" he asked her, smirking, and she scowled at him, unwittingly shoving his hand off of her and making her way slowly down the hill. When she was close to the metal fence, she allowed herself to go a bit faster and then caught herself on the fence. As they crossed the parking lot, Vegeta's replaced his hand on her lower back, leading her to the doors with his hand.

"I thought I told you _not_ to get hurt a second time, woman," he smirked again, moving to hold the door open for her. She nodded her appreciation, but it was short lived as she scowled at him again. Why was he making fun of her like that?

"Wrong way," he mocked as she made to turn left down a hallway, pushing on her back so she would move to the right.

"You don't have to push me," Bulma spat, turning around to shove his hand off of her again before turning back to walk down the right hallway, "It would be much more efficient if you would just tell me where to go."

"That wouldn't be as much fun," he snorted playfully. When Bulma didn't smile back, he added, "Next left and it's the second door on the right."

"Thank you," Bulma said, evidently not thankful in the slightest. "Why do I have to go to the nurse? I'm fine, really."

"I'm not taking you to the nurse woman," Vegeta smirked and Bulma stopped walking.

"What? Where are we going?" she asked, continuing to blow off the "woman" crap that he continued to call her by instead of using her name.

"The principal's office."

Bulma sighed. "Oh, right. I forgot about that. But won't we get in trouble for not going where we were sent?"

"I doubt it. The gym teachers don't do any work. They won't go out of their way to find a problem, especially the one that we are stuck with." Bulma's heart did a double beat when he used the word "we". It just sounded so right to her in more ways than one.

"Why are we going _now_? We still have all of gym class to wait out, don't we?"

As if on cue, the bell for the next period rang, causing Bulma to put her hands over her ears at the same high pitched ring that she doubted she would ever get used to.

"Not anymore," Vegeta shrugged, placing his hand on her lower back once again and leading her down the hallway. They reached the end and made a left. Vegeta stepped forward and opened the second door on the right, walking in first and holding the door for her from the inside until she held it open by herself.

"It's nice to see that you made it," the pregnant Chemistry teacher called from the back of the office. "You do know why you're here, don't you?" she asked, "Because it would be very helpful if I didn't have to go over that part once again, Mr. Ouji, Miss Briefs." As she said their names, she acknowledged that someone was still missing. "And where is your girlfriend, Mr. Ouji?"

"My _what_?" Vegeta asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice. Bulma felt a little hurt by the obvious fact that he didn't go out with girls on a regular basis based off of his tone when answering her.

"Well, Maron, of course. Aren't you two going out now?" the teacher asked, and Bulma took a note that this was a gossiping teacher. She guessed that the information she had just gathered may, in some way in the near future, help her out a bit.

"What? No!" Vegeta snorted, offended by the very idea. "Not even close." Now, _there_ was something that brightened Bulma's day up by a long shot.

"Hey, Vegeta!" the most annoying voice in the entire building called as Maron entered the room, shutting the door behind her with more force than necessary for a dramatic entrance. _That's a wonderful way to enter a detention_ , Bulma thought sarcastically. "How's my favorite boy?" she asked, slapping him on the shoulder. Bulma could've sworn that she heard him hiss.

"Welcome to detention," the teacher said, and Bulma guessed that this was also the woman's lunch period. And by the look of her plump stomach, both she and the _unlucky_ child were nearly starving to death. Good. Bulma didn't want to be here that long either. "I'll now reward you with your punishment."

Bulma took one more glance at Vegeta and Maron before the teacher continued.

"A few classrooms need to be painted blue and white for our school colors. That's what you three will be doing, starting today after school. All three of you will be separated so you can't talk to one another, and you'll be dismissed when a janitor comes to get you. And don't think that you can slack off, because it will only earn you more work and a bad reputation." She stared at Vegeta for a few moments, sparking Bulma's curiosity once again. She had to remember to ask him about that later. "And don't even think about not coming, because then I will make your life a living hell. Do you three understand me?"

They all nodded their understanding, although Bulma doubted that Maron understood anything that she was just told.

"Then, you're all dismissed. Go enjoy your lunches." And with that, the pregnant chemistry teacher was gone.

Vegeta stood and Maron stood to purposefully get in his way. Bulma stood as well and walked over to the girl, preparing to be polite.

"Excuse m—"

"Get out of my way!" Vegeta bellowed, pushing Maron to the side. Bulma rolled her eyes and shrugged at Maron as she followed out the door after him.

"Vegeta!" they heard her call after him, running to catch up.

"Leave me alone!" Vegeta yelled to her, not bothering to turn around.

"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

"You're constantly bothering me and you don't know how to take a "NO"!"

"Does that mean you don't want to go out with me?"

"What do you _think_ it means?! That I want to fuck you up?! You're not even worth my time, whore!"

Bulma watched Maron start to cry, taken aback by how Vegeta decided to handle the situation. She thought it was a bit harsh for him to say such things to a girl. Especially one that was this fond of him.

"Vegeta," she sniffled, "I only want to be your friend. I never wanted to offend you. Why do you have to treat me like garbage all the time? All I want is to talk to you because you're always ignoring me." She paused to choke on her tears and attempt to stop herself from sobbing.

"And for good reason, too. Why don't you just stay away from me? I'm sure it will benefit both of us a hell of a lot more than you think it will."

"You know _what_?" She screamed down the hallway, getting angry, "If you don't start being nicer to me, then I'm going to tell everyone your big secret, starting with this new girl here! You seem to enjoy her company a little more than usual! What are you waiting for, a good fuck from her?! Well you won't get it if I tell her your secret before you get the chance. Just because she's naïve doesn't mean that she'll invite a monster to her bed—"

Bulma watched as Vegeta slowly lifted a hand, palm facing Maron, and wondered why a look of absolute and unconditional fright took hold of the outward appearance on her face. And what secret was she talking about? And what did she mean by saying that she was naïve? Did Vegeta only want her around to have sex with her and then toss her in the trash? She would have never thought such a thing, but it was kind of strange how he only talked to her and made her feel like she was special compared to every other girl in the school. Was that really what was going on? Was she being taken advantage of?

Vegeta walked over to Maron and leaned next to the sobbing teen to whisper something in her ear. Bulma strained to hear what he was saying, but couldn't have done it even if her life depended on knowing what he was telling her. And then, Maron wiped her tears away, smiled at Bulma's dream boy, and walked away at more of a skip than a walk.

"What was that about?" Bulma asked when Vegeta came closer to her and Maron was officially gone. He didn't answer her. Instead, an odd expression appeared on his face and he walked past her. Bulma was left in the middle of the hallway. By the time she decided to turn around, the spiky-haired teen was long gone, giving her time to wonder what his expression was for. And what it meant. It had been a mix of anxiety and panic. What would make someone like him have such an expression on his face… _ever_. It was a mystery to Bulma. But that wasn't the only mystery.

As she made her way to the cafeteria, Bulma came up with a few secrets that she thought Vegeta could be hiding from her. Or was it bigger? Was he hiding it from _everyone_? All she knew was that there was only one person who she was certain would know the answers to all of Bulma's questions…

Chichi.


	5. A Task

**Chapter Four: A Task**

Bulma made her way to the cafeteria and found the table she had sat at on the previous day with ease. Chichi's streak-black hair and Goku's unnatural spikes were two hard things to miss. She noted how Vegeta wasn't with them before she sat down.

Even though she had remembered to bring cash with her today, she didn't feel like eating. In fact, she felt a bit nauseous, but she didn't understand why. It wasn't like she had a bad breakfast or anything. She wondered if baseball had anything to do with it… She wondered if _Vegeta_ had anything to do with it.

"Hey, Bulma," Chichi said, her ever-present smile spread over her face like an inerasable line. "I heard what happened in Chemistry, and I'm sorry you got stuck in the middle of it. What are you being punished for anyway? Talking in class is what I heard. What's your punishment?"

"Painting classrooms," she replied casually. She knew it was unfair, but she didn't want to make a big deal over it. Drama Queen wasn't the type of reputation that she wanted to label herself with on her second day of school. Because everyone else would believe that she actually did something wrong, she didn't want to make a big fiasco about the fact that she really didn't do anything inappropriate for a classroom setting.

"Where's Vegeta?" Goku asked, "Didn't you and him go to the same place?"

"He… went off somewhere. I think Maron was being a harpy and he needed some time to be alone. If he just came here, she probably wouldn't have left him alone."

"She followed him into the boy's bathroom one time," Tien laughed, walking over to them, "He was really pissed about that."

"Look who finally found our table," Chichi said with a smile.

"What? Am I not welcome in your _domain_?"

"Not at all. You're always welcome," she laughed, involuntarily hugging Goku around the waist. He embraced her in response, and Bulma felt an odd and unexpected wave of jealousy. Not because she liked Goku. It wasn't like that at all. It was just the fact that they were so close.

She had never even gone out with a boy in her entire life. She had never experienced such warmth that she was currently witnessing, and she felt a little deprived.

"Thanks," Tien replied, shaking Bulma out of her daze as he placed his plastic red tray down on the table next to her. "Hey… Bulma, was it?"

"That's right," she replied, happy that some people were noticing her less than others. She found it a bit weird that she could remember every name she encountered and not everyone could remember only one: hers. Besides, how hard was it to remember the name "Bulma"? It didn't seem so hard to her. She shook her head. Well, of course not. It was her own goddamn name, for crying out loud! It shouldn't be _too_ hard for her to remember.

"Why aren't you eating anything?" 18 asked, coming up behind her. Apparently, she had also found the lunch table.

"Not hungry," Bulma said, hoping no one else would ask. She didn't like lying. It always made her stomach twist into a tight knot.

"Oh, really?" she asked, and Bulma got the feeling that 18 knew more than she was letting on. Did she meet up with Vegeta on her way here?

Then Bulma remembered the questions she had for Chichi, since she was the one who had most of the answers. Aside from the fact that she knew the raven-haired teen didn't appreciate the hounding, Bulma was ambitious to find out what the secret was. And if Maron knew, then Vegeta's friends would have to know as well. At least, she hoped…

"Chichi," she began, wondering if it was okay to ask in front of everyone else, "I have a few questions to ask you about… Well… I just think I have a right to know, if you don't mind me saying so."

Everyone at their table, and a few others that just heard the change in her tone, looked her way. Bulma knew her face was getting redder, but she didn't care. She now knew that it wasn't the appropriate time to ask, but she would find out if she had to hammer the raven-haired girl all day. All week if it was necessary. And she was right. She _did_ have a right to know. Especially after hearing Maron's accusations and entitlements.

"Bulma…" Chichi began, and Bulma was well aware that she knew exactly what it was she had questions about by the look of uneasiness and worry that creased her face. Bulma waved her hand as if to say that they could talk about it later. Luckily, Chichi's expression showed that she understood the intended message.

"What's that all about?" 18 asked, and Bulma looked over, feeling a bit angry with herself that she couldn't keep her mind out of other people's business. Bulma wondered if the blonde girl knew the secret as well.

"Nothing that's important," she replied nonchalantly. 18 nodded once and Bulma got the impression that she knew something again that she didn't intend on sharing. She shook the thought aside and realized that her stomach was growling. By the looks of it, no one heard the obnoxious noise, so she stared at the table, listening to other people's conversations a few tables away. One was a group of girls talking about things they did over the summer. The second was another group of girls talking about activities they were planning for the following weekend. The last one was a group of boys talking about the two groups of girls. _How original_ , Bulma thought sarcastically.

The bell rang about twenty minutes after Bulma had arrived in the cafeteria, and she covered her ears at the awful noise. She really was never going to get used to the obscene noise. Not even if she lived in the high school for the rest of her life.

"See you last period," Chichi called, and Bulma waved her response as everyone else followed after Chichi. Bulma sighed and went in the opposite direction as them, making her way to History class, with Mr. Gohan… and Yamcha. She mentally prepared herself for having to deal with him in the near future. She felt a little bad, because he was a nice guy, but he just… acted like a girl sometimes. She solemnly wondered if he had fallen off the tightrope.

When she walked into the classroom, Yamcha wasn't yet in his seat. She ashamedly hoped that he went home early. She looked left to find that Vegeta was in his seat, unlike yesterday, when he barged in late, Maron on his heels.

"Where did you go?" she asked him, walking by his desk and pausing for a moment to ask her question.

"Nowhere that involves your concern, woman," he replied, purposefully not looking at her as he spoke.

"Oh," Bulma replied, a bit confused by his defensive response. She had expected him to be aggravated and maybe even angry, and his expression from before revealed that he was worried or even anxious about something. But she hadn't expected him to be defensive towards her.

"Alright everyone," Mr. Gohan said, coming into the room. Bulma watched Yamcha inconspicuously scurry through the doorway behind him. "In your seats, please. That means you, Mr. Yamcha," he added, much to Sharpner's entertainment. Bulma caught him laughing and felt the violent urge to beat him to a bloody pulp. "Class has begun. Everyone settle down."

Bulma made her way to her seat, following Yamcha from a safe distance in case he wanted to whisper something to her as they walked to their seats. She guessed that he wouldn't mind holding in whatever he had to say until later. And even if he did, she wasn't going to give him the chance.

"How are you?" she heard him ask when they both took their seats.

"Excuse me?" she said, trying to be polite.

"You know. From gym class. How are you feeling? Is everything still holding together in there?" he asked with a smirk, and Bulma couldn't help but smile in return. Even though she thought he was annoying, when she was around him and his perky attitude, her opinion of him seamed to unexpectedly change.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for asking," she added, noticing how he was the only one to ask if she was alright. The only thing everyone else wanted to know about was what her punishment was for her "misbehavior" back in Chemistry. And now that she thought about it, there was still something she wanted to know about: the secret Maron had explicitly blabbered about during lunch. Maybe Yamcha knew something about it…

"You sure you're not too shaken up to be in History class?" he jokingly asked.

"Yeah. I'm way too shaken up. Would you like to take me to the nurse? And I don't think I'm fit to drive myself home. Mind coming with me?" she said sarcastically.

"That would be nice. A free pass out of school. Seems like a nice idea, doesn't it?"

"You wish."

"With all my heart and more," he smiled, showing off his white teeth. Bulma couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how such a guy could be in the lower classes of a high school. To her, he just seemed… normal. Well, more normal than everyone else she had spent time with at least.

About five more minutes passed into the class before Mr. Gohan got the projector to function and another couple minutes to plug in his computer and set up the PowerPoint slideshow for the class. Bulma took notes for fifteen minutes before she couldn't stand the anticipation any longer. She made sure Vegeta was too busy writing to notice anything she did before she turned back to Yamcha. As soon as she looked at him, she held all of his attention in the palm of her hand.

"Do you know anything… about how weird… _Vegeta_ is?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice so low when saying his name that even Yamcha could barely hear her at a few inches away.

"Yeah, I know. Isn't he?"

Damn. He wasn't getting the message. There was actually a _point_ to why she was talking to him. She mentally growled at her horrible luck.

"No, I mean… is there something… that's different about him?"

" _Other_ than his naturally spiky hair and his pompous-ass attitude?" he smirked. Bulma silently groaned. He still wasn't getting it.

"Do you even know anything about him? I mean, does he even have a life?" she played along. She made sure to keep her voice even quieter if she planned on wrongfully insulting him behind his back to get the answers she desired. She felt bad about saying anything she didn't believe, but desperate times called for desperate measures… didn't they?

"I know, right?" he paused to jot down some more notes from up on the board. Bulma followed suit, scribbling illegibly so she wouldn't miss her chance to make him say anything that might sound as if it was important in her apparently everlasting search for answers.

"But really. Do you know anything about him?" she pressed, hoping to get somewhere.

"Not really. Other than the party, I don't know much."

"Party? What party?" Finally, some progress!

"Well, you know… When Maron…" Yamcha's face went bright red and Bulma realized that this was nothing new. She had already heard about this part. He was strong and could do a lot of pushups. So could a bunch of people. That didn't tell her anything. That didn't answer any of her questions.

"Oh, right. I heard about that. He did pushups, right?"

"Yeah. He did three sets of one thousand seven hundred eighty four. It was… _unnatural_."

 _One thousand seven hundred and eighty_ five, she mentally corrected him, surprised that she even remembered the number. And then he did two more sets, adding one more to the uncommon number… Why did she remember that? She didn't want to distract him though, if he knew anything else about the spiky-haired teen.

"What do you mean… unnatural?"

"It was sick. No one can do that many pushups and not even have a drop of sweat on him after it. I was standing right there, and I'm telling you, it was _unnatural_."

"Well, what about it was unnatural. What caught your eye?"

"First of all, no one is that strong. Not even people in the military can do stuff like that without even getting tired. I would know because my dad was in the military, and he was _strong_. And besides, people aren't supposed to _flash_ when they do pushups."

"What? _Flash_?"

"You didn't hear about that part?" he asked, eager to tell her something that she didn't know already. She was eager to hear it just as much, so she appreciated his mood for the moment. She looked up for a moment to make sure Vegeta wasn't listening. She lightly, but happily sighed when she found him engrossed in the information on the board and in his notes.

"No, I didn't. What do you mean, he flashed? Did he do something bad?"

"If you consider lighting up an entire room _bad_ …"

"Wait… What are you talking about?"

"I don't understand it much either. He was doing pushups. I think he was on the second set, and he just… lit up; like he was a light bulb or something. The darkness just _disappeared_ for a split second. I don't know what kind of trick he pulled, but I swear. He actually _flashed_. Like, literally, his body _lit_ up."

"That's impossible," Bulma said flatly, wondering if it was true, and if it was, what it had to do with the secret Maron spoke of. After all, people didn't… flash.

"I guess it's something you have to see for yourself, although I doubt it'll even happen again, so don't go getting your hopes up on me. Vegeta doesn't go to parties anymore because of that one. I think he's embarrassed… What a whiner."

"Yeah," Bulma said, knowing that if she tried to defend her dream boy, and Yamcha found out anything else, he wouldn't be willing to share the information with her. She didn't want to look like some sort of spy for Vegeta. That would leave all her questions unanswered. And that was the last thing she wanted right now.

Flashing? She couldn't understand what that had to do with anything. And she didn't rule out the possibility that Yamcha was a bit drunk at the party. He could have thought that he saw it. Besides, Chichi would have told her, and the raven-haired girl seemed to know just about everything when it came to that party.

Then she remembered the party on Friday. She unhopefully wondered if she could convince Vegeta to go to it with her. She knew it would never happen, but if a girl didn't hope, what was left? Maybe she could get him drunk again…

"Eyes on the board, please," Mr. Gohan said, interrupting her delicious thoughts. She cursed him under her breath, and Yamcha smirked, apparently hearing her.

Bulma looked to her right to find Sharpner whispering something to a black-haired boy next to him. She saw him point at her and they both laughed at something without making eye contact with her. Why would they be talking about her? She brushed it aside, thinking it was probably because she was talking with Yamcha. She wished that they would just stop bugging him about his rank in the high school. He would, more likely than not, grow up with a college degree or two and have a nice life with a nice house and a nice family. Sharpner on the other hand, would probably end up on the streets, still making fun of other people. If she knew anything, it was that a high school was very different in comparison to the outside world. People didn't carelessly judge you when you walked down the streets. People were friendlier _outside_ of Orange Star High. Or that's what Bulma believed from what she had seen so far. She had also heard that Satan City was a magnet for burglaries and robberies. She knew to steer clear of obstacles like those. Her mother had made sure to hammer her about that and other stuff that resembled the same kind of trouble that burglaries would present to a "young girl like her", in her mother's own words while she had been talking to Bulma's father about it. Neither of them agreed on the subject matter.

Originally, Bulma's parents didn't like the idea of leaving her alone for months at a time in a place like Satan City, but they knew that she needed the exposure to people her own age before she went to college. So they had made it a point to warn her about the dangers that sometimes came with necessity. Especially in _her_ case, as they hadn't neglected to point out to her several hundred times. She was surprised that they hadn't called her just to tell her again.

Bulma didn't really need to go to college because she would inherit her parents' companies and millions of dollars that came along with them, but she felt that it was important not just to her lineage, but to her as a person with wants and desires. It was like a rite of passage for someone her age, and she knew that if she was going to do it, she would have to start to do it at her current age. That was the main reason that her parents had agreed to her seemingly outrageous demand to go to school.

And she had to admit, she didn't regret that decision in the slightest way. She would have felt even more deprived if she hadn't met Vegeta—

The sharp school bell rang around the room, but Bulma managed to refrain from covering her ears so she wouldn't look like an idiot. Especially because Sharpner was staring directly at her. As were his cronies. She was glad that she had next period alone as she made her way out the door and into the crowded hallways of Orange Star High. Surviving stampedes without being trampled put her in a good mood for Spanish class as she entered the classroom. She made her way to the back right corner of the room and sat in her unoccupied desk, waiting for everyone else to arrive.

Bulma didn't pay attention for notes because she spoke Spanish when she travelled to Cuba and Mexico with her parents for work. Mexico had been beautiful. Cuba… well, it creeped her out after she spoke with this cross-eyed man who seemed to have only one very precise and inappropriate thing on his mind. He never once looked at the features on her face when he spoke to her. It was as if when he asked how Cuba came to be of interest to her, he had been talking to her breasts instead of her. It had nothing to do with the country. She had just been taken aback by the rude and obscene gesture as if asking her if she wanted a ride to his shack in the middle of the woods just to have sex with him. It had been extremely uncalled for and unexpected on his part.

She also spoke fluent French and Italian, making her more than capable of passing her subtle Spanish class for high school students flicking pieces of paper across the room at each other. And if they could pass, then she had absolutely nothing to worry about.

The class passed by slowly, but when it was finally over, Bulma felt a great sense of relief and excitement. The relief was from the simple fact that the boring class period was over. The excitement, on the other hand, was because her next class was with Chichi, and there was no way in Hell that she was going to back down this time. She wanted her questions answered, and she wanted them answered _now_.

"Chichi!" she called, walking into the art room. The raven haired girl's face was red and she was walking away from an apparently angry Vegeta. Goku hung his head behind the spiky haired teen as if he was ashamed.

"I can't talk right now, Bulma," Chichi said quickly… a little _too_ quickly if Bulma had anything to say about it.

"Why? What just happened? Did he just… _yell_ at you?"

"No, no. It's not like that. He's just upset. That's all."

"About _what_ exactly? Chichi, you look like you're about to _cry_. What did he say to you?"

"It's nothing, Bulma. Just drop it, okay?"

"No," she said firmly, turning to walk towards Vegeta.

"Bulma, _please_ ," Chichi begged.

"Then tell me what the heck is going on! Why is he mad at you? Why are you about to cry? And why isn't Goku supporting you in whatever this is? And why won't anyone tell me anything around here?"

"I… I can't, Bulma… I'm sorry, really."

Chichi's face froze and Bulma turned just in time to notice the way Vegeta threw a malicious glare her way. When she turned back, Chichi had a single tear rolling down the left side of her face. Then, as if out of nowhere, both Goku and Vegeta passed right by her and walked out of the door, ignoring the teacher yelling at the two of them to come back. Apparently the threat of a cut slip wasn't enough to make them come back.

Bulma then noticed the looks on Tien and 18's faces as Bulma walked over to the wooden table and set her bags down on the green tiled floor below her metal stool. It was clear as day.

They knew what was going on.

It seemed like everyone knew this big secret, whatever it was, except for her. Why would no one tell her? It couldn't be that big of a deal, could it? She wondered if Yamcha knew more than he had let on. But she quickly threw the thought in the trash. Yamcha seemed like the type of boy that would willingly tell her everything he knew about something she wanted answers about.

Bulma sighed. If only _everyone_ was like that. Then she wouldn't have to go through all this trouble just to find out one little secret.

She went over in her head what she knew so far. First, Chichi said that Vegeta had helped her build a shed and that she knew that he was strong… unnaturally strong, as pointed out by a few others. She had described him as a different _breed_ or something like that. She knew from Maron that this was all Vegeta's secret, so everyone that would be the closest thing to a friend to him seemed to know about it. Maybe that was the solution. All she had to do was befriend him and she would be allowed to know. She pushed the thought aside for later and continued to go over what she knew. Yamcha said that he saw him flash. She wasn't quite sure what that meant, but at least it was something. She also took the possibility that he could have been very drunk with disdain. She wished that the odd boy could be a bit more reliable in such important matters to her, but she couldn't really do anything about that.

That was about it. He was strong and could light up while doing pushups. Great… Neither helped her in discovering anything worthwhile, but she knew one thing was for sure.

She promised she would find out more if it _killed_ her. And then, she unexpectedly regretted it.


	6. Fire

**Chapter Five: Fire**

Bulma got in her car, setting her bag down next to her in the empty passenger's seat. She then checked the clock. She had relatively twenty minutes until the first bell rang, indicating that the school day would begin. With or without her. But she didn't have to worry about that. She had plenty of time to get there and still be careful on the roads while driving.

She looked down at the pedal and the brake. Last night she had been woken up by a dream. She wasn't surprised in the slightest that it was about the secret that she still didn't know about, to her own selfish dismay. She didn't remember most of it anymore. She had horrible memory when it came to her dreams. The part she did remember, though, was the end. The specific portion of it that had her waking up suddenly, beads of sweat on her forehead so early in the morning. She had been running through a dense and overgrown forest. Big thorn bushes lined the ground and she remembered desperately running, barefoot, as the sharp points pierced through her flesh like a needle through Jell-O. So smooth… and yet slick, like the blood. The woods reminded her of a place she knew, but then again, dreams often held a familiar quality for her. She remembered grabbing at the trees as she ran so as not to hit them, pushing off to give herself whatever little momentum the force could give her. She had needed an edge. She distinctly remembered how the thorns didn't bother her as much as the smell of the woods. It had smelled of rotting corpses. She remembered wanting to put her hands over her nose and mouth. She remembered how, for some reason, she didn't want to. As if the smell increasing her fear would help her to escape. But then who was dead…?

She remembered falling, being deathly afraid of someone, some _thing_ , that was chasing her. Laying there on the ground, knowing that even if she got up and ran again, the fall had just ended her life. She remembered not having enough _time_. She needed more _time_. She remembered being followed. She remembered bright, scarlet eyes through the thick underbrush, coming for her, as she knew it would.

And then she remembered feeling safe, as if nothing in the world could ever hurt her again. She remembered being in Vegeta's arms, feeling sheltered as he cradled her, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing more than a few pounds in his eyes. And then she was startled by something. She remembered… waking up… and that was it.

Bulma looked at the clock. Now she had eighteen minutes left until the dreaded bell and its damned ear-shattering pierce. Maybe she'd wait nineteen minutes just so she wouldn't have to hear it that one time. She knew it was worth it, but it wasn't worth being late to class, especially since Mr. Piccolo was her first period teacher. If it had been anyone else, she would have done it.

So she put in her key and it stuck fast. She turned it and listened to the engine rumble and then purr. She took one more glance at the pedal and the brake before hitting the gas and heading down the short driveway to the road beyond.

After school, the previous day, painting as a punishment had been more fun than she originally though it would be. She was put in a different room than Maron, so there was no one to watch her splatter the walls and then paint over her polka-spots. She had found the work to be more enjoyable than not. She found that she could make cool patterns with her brush strokes.

She wondered if Vegeta had gotten in trouble for leaving school early like he did. He hadn't even fulfilled his punishment, which was no longer a true punishment in Bulma's eyes. After all, she had nothing to do when she got home anyway, so painting, over nothing, was very pleasurable. She did have a page of math homework, but that was the _last_ thing she was going to call pleasurable.

The drive to Orange Star High was boring, to say the least. There were no trees or animals. Just boring buildings and more and more people. She passed a couple banks and jewelers along the way, and glanced at them each time, just to make sure that there weren't any robberies going on. The last thing she wanted to end up doing was getting stuck in the crossfire of a group of thugs and the city's police. She'd be dead. That was a given. And it just seemed like something that would happen to her. Her father loved to call her a trouble magnet. She knew she wasn't, though. After all, what kind of trouble could she possible be a magnet for?

Maybe painting, but that wasn't even her fault. Yet it had been nice because it gave her something to do after school. She even had the guts to admit to herself that she felt like she had actually accomplished something.

She pulled into the parking lot and parked her small white car in a space that was far away from all the other cars, as usual. It wasn't that she couldn't afford to fix a dent or two. It was just that she didn't want to go through the trouble just to have someone ask how she got it fixed so quickly if someone hit her by accident. She didn't need everyone in the high school knowing about her… inheritance.

She grabbed her bags and swung them over her right shoulder as she stepped out of her car. Bulma was wearing the same style of clothing that she always wore. She had on blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a pair of sneakers. She even had a small, light blue gemstone necklace on, just to say that she wasn't _completely_ bland today.

Bulma couldn't help but glance around for Chichi, Goku and, of course, Vegeta. Regrettably, none of them were there. She noticed 17 and 18 leaning against a Jeep Wrangler, and Tien and Launch were… talking. Bulma didn't feel comfortable going over to the two of them because they looked like they were about to make out in front if everyone, so she headed for the dark green Jeep instead.

"Look who it is, 18," 17 said, a wide grin on his face, "Hey Bulma. How's life treating you?"

"Average, I guess. Nothing's really happening at this point in my life. I'm at a low part, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah. Same here, girl. I know exactly what you mean."

"No he doesn't," 18 butted in. "He just likes you, Bulma. He'll say _anything_ for a date."

Bulma went red and looked at the pavement at her feet she tried to focus on the yellow and white lines of the parking lot, instead of what she had just been told. It didn't work as well as she would have liked it to.

"It's okay. He doesn't bite. He only barks at you like a desperate dog," 18 continued, earning herself a punch in the arm by her embarrassed twin brother. Bulma felt like she would have rather watched Tien and Launch make out than stand there and listen to what she was hearing. It made her feel a little worse than embarrassed.

"Shut up, 18. I do _not_ like her like that. Bulma is a very nice girl," he stated, matter-of-factly.

"Whatever you say, butthead," 18 snickered, but Bulma was happy for the backup from 17. It made her face get a little less pink.

"Hey, Bulma!" she heard a voice call from behind. Whoever it was, she now considered them a god for pulling her out of the conversation she had been dragged into.

"Tien. Hi," she thankfully breathed, as Tien walked over to the three of them. Launch was heading into the school, so Bulma guessed that her assumptions had been incorrect. Or they were waiting until they didn't have an audience to holler at them.

"What's going on, guys? How is everybody?"

"Fine," 18 said, folding her arms.

"Fine," 17 repeated, folding his arms over his chest as well.

"I'm okay," Bulma said, "You?"

"Good. Thanks for asking. Ready for school today?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"I did my homework," she shrugged, joking along with him. Tien laughed.

Just then, the sharp bell rang from the inside of Orange Star High.

"Oops. Better get going," Tien said, adjusting his backpack strap on his right shoulder as he turned around. "See you later Bulma," he waved. Bulma waved in return as she turned back to 17 and 18. They were getting their backpacks, among other things, out of the Jeep. When they had everything, they said goodbye to Bulma and headed off in the direction Tien had gone. Bulma stood there for a few moments, looking around.

Where were they? They couldn't all be absent at the same exact time on the same day. Unless something was wrong… Was it her fault? Her face fell as she realized that they weren't at school this morning. She turned around and followed after 17 and 18 into the school building. Why would all three of them not be in school? Bulma couldn't fathom why they would feel the need to absent just because she had asked them what the secret was. If that was even the reason for their unexplainable actions.

Bulma entered through the front doors of the high school and quickly made her way to first period. She felt she used up too much time searching for her friends, even though she now felt a bit strange when she called them that, instead of using that time to get to her first period class.

The entire day went by like a blur. In English, Mr. Piccolo had assigned vocabulary homework and had handed out the vocab books. He had also given Bulma one for Vegeta, stating that they must be friends because she sits next to him in class and he ordered her to give him the book and the assignment next time she saw him. But honestly, Bulma had a strange feeling that she wasn't going to see him anytime soon to relay the message. For the rest of the period, all the class did was take notes on English literature, which Bulma already understood to perfection.

Human Behavior without Chichi was just a boring class, since the teacher never did anything anyway. She still had her oddly shaped nose in that overly-thick book of hers. Math came next, and Bulma got a sense of relief when the teacher told her that she was one out of four students who actually did the homework. She was also a bit startled when one of the obviously unpopular girls began to try and start a conversation with her.

"So… Bulma was it? Do you have any clue where Vegeta is this morning? I heard he left the city from a few people. I was actually just walking by when I heard them say it… So, shouldn't you be with him, too?" the girl asked.

"Umm… No, I don't know, and why should I be with him? I… I don't even know him that well." Bulma shrugged.

"Oh, well word around the school is that you're his new play-toy… You know," the girl said, obviously not a people person. It seemed like her status of being unpopular in the school had made her horrible at talking with others.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't be modest. I'd bet my life that most of the girls in the school would die to be in your position. I know _I_ would. To be important to Vegeta like that… You know, I really am surprised that you're not with him, wherever he went off to this time. I'm not trying to insult you. Please don't get the wrong idea. I meant it as a compliment really."

Bulma tried her best to ignore the last part and get back on topic. The sooner she could stop talking to the girl, the better. "Wait. It's only been one day. _Less_ than one day, actually. It isn't that big of a deal that he isn't here. People aren't allowed to be absent now and then or what?" she asked, a bit confused.

"Well, if it's like last time, then he won't be back for at least a week or more," the girl replied innocently. "But really. Why aren't you with him? A bunch of my friends want to know what you're doing here when he's off somewhere else."

"You mean he's done this before? And I thought I told you already. I have no reason to be with him because I don't know him that well."

"Only once before now, to answer your first question. When he came back, though… Now _there's_ something you don't easily forget, let me tell you. And stop being so stubborn about not knowing him as well as you honestly do. It's ticking me off a bit. You probably know him a hell of a lot better than every person in this room combined into one. You spend more time with him than he spends with himself, probably."

"What are you talking about?" Bulma asked, at a loss for any other words at the girl's blathering.

"Well, _aren't_ you his new play-toy?"

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"It means, silly, that you mean something to him, but now I see that I was mistaken. If you meant that much to him, you would have gone with him, or you would have at least known what I mean when I said it the first time. He wouldn't have let you out of his sight if you were important to him. You know what I mean?"

"I have no clue. What the hell are you talking about? I've been here for less than a week. I'm not friends with anybody. Heck, I don't even think I know anybody's last name. Except for the teachers, of course. But I'm new here. I don't mean anything to anybody and no one means anything to me. You know what? Could you stop talking to me, please? I really don't want to talk to anyone right now," she said, making sure her voice was unmistakably serious and the point was clearly not open for discussion. "And I'm nobody's _play-toy_!" she added forcefully.

Just then, the bell rang and Bulma was off to Chemistry. Maybe she would here that Vegeta was in trouble for skipping his punishment the previous day. Then she remembered that she actually had a friend in that class: Yamcha. Unless he was absent, too…

Bulma walked into the classroom and instantly spotted an empty seat next to hers and frowned. Hopefully he was only late and not down for the count. Unfortunately, Maron was already in her seat, happily glaring at Bulma. Why, she couldn't come close to understanding.

"Hey there, Bull-mers. How are you this morning? Doing well? I thought so. Guess what? It isn't going to go any better from here on out, because I'm going to tell you a few things and you're going to shut up and listen."

Bulma cocked a fine eyebrow at the girl's little tirade. Bulma didn't even think she saw her breathe through all that.

"It's Bulma," she began, correcting Maron's mistake. She didn't know if it had been made on purpose or not, but she didn't care enough to find out. "And I don't like to be told to shut up, because I never obey bitches, and someone always ends up mad at me. Not like I care, though. Getting you mad at me might be entertaining. You might even get in trouble again. And you'd only have me to blame for that, now wouldn't you?"

"I didn't mean any offense, girl. Calm down, will ya? I really just wanted to tell you something about Vegeta that I think you should know. You know, because you're hanging around with him so much and all, 'kay?"

Bulma's insides flew around at the mention of Vegeta's name. It was obvious as a dead leaf in a puddle that Maron knew Vegeta's secret. For Kami's sake, she was the one who had threatened to give it away. Why hadn't she thought of that before? She felt like such an idiot! But she'd be damned if she gave anything away to the Queen Bee.

"Oh, well sorry I took your _insult_ the wrong way, Maron. And why would you think that _you_ have anything I would want to hear?"

"Trust me. I know you're just dying inside to hear what I have to offer you. But you're going to have to make me a promise if you want me to tell you all about that sexy boy's secrets."

"You have nothing I want to hear," she said matter-of-factly, turning her head away with a huff. The bell rang and Yamcha still wasn't there, so she felt her stomach tighten up. She would have to spend an entire period with Maron and her… gulp… secret. Bulma didn't know if she'd be able to resist for forty-five minutes or torture. She couldn't even focus on the notes that were soon placed on the smart board because she knew the information already. Her parents had taught it to her a few years back.

"Are you so sure about that?" Maron asked seductively after a few minutes breezed by. It was no surprise that Bulma knew exactly what she was referring to even after the time had gone by. It only seemed like a couple seconds to her anyway.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"So you don't want to know why Vegeta isn't here today? Or why he won't be here for the next few days? Because I have all the answers. All you have to do is ask for them, Bulma. I know you want to know what they are. You can't hide that from me."

"You don't know when to shut up, do you? And besides, you said that you would want something in return. So why in the world would I give you that kind of control over me? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, no, Bulma. I never said that. And I never would. Don't think so harshly of me. It's Vegeta and his damn _powers_ that are the problem here. Oops. Did I just say that? I must have slipped."

"What powers?" Bulma blurted, before she could catch herself. She cursed herself for doing it, but thanked herself for just getting it over with at the same time.

"So you do want to know?" she asked, and Bulma couldn't help herself. She nodded just a bit to get the message across.

"Miss Briefs!" the pregnant teacher called, making Bulma start and slam her elbow on the lab table in front of her. People around the room snickered, including Maron. That made Bulma's blood rise to a rapid boil.

"Sorry," she said softly, putting her head down. After about ten minutes of note-taking went by, Maron mumbled something to her, making her head turn.

"So, you want to know about his powers, then?" she asked, and Bulma felt like a helpless child as she nodded once again. "And you'll do what I say after I tell you what you want to know. Don't worry. I promise not to leave any of the good stuff out. And I'm not a liar."

Bulma swallowed hard and then nodded, signing herself into something she wasn't even aware of yet. The thought made her stomach twist up. She even felt a little nauseous.

"Good. Well, the first thing you need to know is that he isn't human. He's some alien and he's got really weird powers, like I said before."

The absurdity of Maron's accusations made Bulma feel like she had just signed her life away to a raving, lying lunatic. She didn't even trust this girl. So then why was she doing all this? Was it really worth it? Just to find out Vegeta's secret. Even Maron was going a bit overboard. After all, he couldn't be an alien, so she knew she was being lied to right off the bat.

"Other than that, he can change his hair color from what it is now to a bright gold. When he does that, he flashes and lights up like the sun and—"

"Everyone out!" the pregnant teacher yelled as the fire alarm went off. Bulma felt like crap. If she thought the regular bell was bad and ear shattering…

She made her way out of the classroom with her hands over her ears. She couldn't have cared any less that she wasn't able to hear whatever Maron was adding onto her ridiculous story. The only part that made any sense was the flashing, because that was what Yamcha had said before about what he had seen at the party.

When everyone was outside, Bulma let go of her ears and turned to Maron, who was apparently still talking through and after all that.

"So," she said, when Bulma could finally hear her again, "You now owe me something, don't you?" Maron placed her fists on her hips and leaned forward with a devilish smile spread over her face.

"Wait a second. I didn't even hear the rest of what you said. That's not fair."

"Don't make excuses, girl. We made a deal, remember? You can't back out now," she said, her smile turning into a fleeting frown. "So, what I want is for you to stay away from Vegeta and give us some space, because he obviously likes me better than he likes you, if he likes you at all. Which he probably doesn't by the way. And if you don't do as I just told you, I'll make your life a living hell. You understand me. Don't ever go near _my_ Vegeta ever again. Got it?!"

Bulma nodded stupidly. There was no way she was abiding by Maron's rules. Especially because Maron hadn't even told her anything. And how did she plan on making her life a living hell exactly? There was no way one girl could do something like that to her. So, she had nothing to worry about… right?

"Oh my God! Look over there!" someone called, snapping Bulma out of her own self-absorbed thoughts. She whipped her head around to find that there was smoke coming off of the far end of the school building. A small fire had already begun to spread around. The fire department wasn't there yet, so all she could do was watch in awe at the majestic force of nature threatening to _literally_ make her life a living hell.

"Get the students away from the building!" one of the teachers called to the other adults.

"There's one missing!" another teacher called. Bulma turned to find that it was the pregnant teacher. _Her_ teacher. "From my class. Before the period started, he told me that he was going to the nurse because he wasn't feeling well, but the nurse just told me that he had gone to the bathroom on the far corner just a minute ago! The boy hasn't come back yet!"

"Who was it?" someone asked.

"… Yamcha," the pregnant teacher replied, and before Bulma knew what she was doing, her legs were carrying her as fast as they could back to the school building. Back to the door she had come out of. She had lost too many friends already. She wasn't going to lose any more. Especially if she could do something about it. She could hear people yelling for her to come back as soon as she had moved to run back at the sound of Yamcha's name. She could hear the teachers running after her, but she could feel that they were too far behind to catch her before she made it to the school and shut the door behind her. She didn't know how to lock it, she just settled for shutting it instead. It would take them time to open it. It would take enough time for her to head towards the fire and figure out where the boys' bathroom was it that section of Orange Star High.

"Yamcha!" she heard herself calling. "Yamcha! Where are you?!"

There was no response. She couldn't hear anything from anywhere. Then she heard a pop. She jumped and turned to find that the fire was behind her. She focused her mind on the task at hand. That would mean that she would have to find another way out of the building. She gleefully found the boys' bathroom ahead of her, on the left side of the hallway. She sprinted and ran through the open doorway.

She looked around and found that no one was inside. She kicked open each of the stalls, but no one was in there. Then where was Yamcha? Did he try and get out? Was he hurt? Bulma raced out of the restroom and made a sharp left, almost falling flat on her face in the process. She put out her hands for quick balance and ran around another corner. The fire was spreading. She turned around, but a burnt part of the ceiling fell right in front of her. She felt her adrenaline rush throughout her entire body and tried to calm herself down. She didn't want to act like a panicked and frightened animal. That wouldn't help her at all… That wouldn't help Yamcha either.

"Yamcha!" she called out again, cupping her hands around her mouth to make her voice reach farther. "Can you hear me? Where are you?!"

She could feel the heat on all sides of her now as the building wasn't neglecting to show of its collapsing capabilities. More small pieces of the ceiling began to fall like it was raining fire and the paint was peeling off the walls. Papers in lockers had caught on fire, making the blue metal show up red on the opposite side, where Bulma could see them. She began to desperately open random doors, calling out for Yamcha at the top of her lungs.

At some point, she noticed that her voice had taken on a different meaning to her. She was no longer calling out to find and help Yamcha. There were tears cascading down her face and she was calling out for him to find and help _her_. She was trapped. There was fire all around her. She was utterly lost. She didn't even know which way was out anymore. She couldn't even tell if she had been in this part of the school. The fire and the missing paint and ceiling were making it difficult for her to remember if anywhere she had been resembled where she was now. She tried to pull herself together and looked around, getting her bearings. She slowly walked down the hall to her left, remembering that she had come from the right, and the fire had blocked that exit already.

She rounded another corner on the right and continued straight until she saw more fire spreading ahead of her. Dear god, was the entire school going to burn down? When was the goddamn fire squad going to arrive? Weren't they supposed to save her and Yamcha? In her personal opinion, they weren't doing a very good job at that. She turned around again, keeping herself calm and went down the opposite hallway. She could see a door in the distance and her hopes flew up high. It looked like the main entrance. She hoped Yamcha had found his way out by himself as she ran down the hallway. There was no way that the fire was going to block her out of getting away this time.

Windows covered the front entrance. The entire main wall in the lobby was made of glass. As she raced towards the door, a few of the upper windows exploded outward. Bulma fell to the ground and covered her ears from the loud noise. She felt like her ears were bleeding, but there was no blood. She felt paralyzed, but she knew that she could move. She pushed her legs out from under her and wobbled to her feet. She staggered to the doors and pushed on the handle with relief.

But the door wouldn't open. A red signal flashed in front of her face. It read, "Fire Exit left. Emergency lock engaged." Bulma's mouth fell open. Emergency lock engaged for _what_? She pounded her small fists on the glass or the door, but all she could accomplish was making the sides of her hands hurt. She ran to the windows. The ones that had shattered were at least five feet over her head. She tried climbing the brick wall, but after falling twice and seeing the fire creeping ever closer, she felt her heart beat violently against the inside of her chest. She felt like her rib cage would shatter just like the windows had.

She screamed for help, but felt like an idiot. No one could hear her. The teachers had escorted the students far away from the building, so no one was around. She guessed that Maron was probably laughing her fat ass off. She wouldn't get to not keep her end of the bargain this way. She wouldn't have a choice. Maron got what she wanted anyway. It didn't matter.

She thought about her parents. She loved them very much, and she knew that they would feel horrible about allowing her to go to a public high school. They would feel like this was all their fault. I only she could tell them that it wasn't. If only she could tell them that she had made a horrible mistake. She had thought that she had the power to save Yamcha, but she didn't she didn't even know where he was. He probably heard the fire alarm and had run out of the building. It was probably that no one had seen him come out, not that he was stuck inside. She had felt like a helpless idiot a lot today, but none of it compared to how much she felt like a helpless idiot right now. She had never done anything more idiotic in her entire life. And this was going to end her life. She was going to die.

Bulma sat down on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. She felt the tears go halfway down her face and then stop. She looked up and realized that it was because the fire was so close. Her tears were evaporating before they reached the bottom of her face. They never even got the chance to hit the floor. She turned herself around so she wouldn't have to look at the fire as it came towards her. Everything burned.

She shook her head and stood up. What was she doing? She couldn't just sit there and wait for the fire. _That_ would be the mistake that ended her, not the choice to help a friend who she believed had been in danger. Giving up on her own was giving up, not making a mistake or a wrong turn. She ran back to the door and kicked the handle. When it didn't budge, she kicked it again, with more force. And then again, and again, and again.

Then, something outside caught her vision. She looked up and blinked a couple times. She had to be dreaming. There was no way. It couldn't be… Vegeta?

"Over here!" Bulma called, as she watched him land on the sidewalk. He had been… flying? "Hey! I'm in here!" she yelled, but he already seemed to know where she was. How was that possible?

He ran to the door with unimaginable speed and, "Be careful! It's stuck—" … ripped it off the hinges with one hand. Bulma felt her mouth hang open.

"Are you an _idiot_?" was the first thing he said, grabbing her arm and shoving her outside. She fell onto the pavement, but she didn't care. The palms of her hands were scraped, but she didn't care about that either. She wasn't going to die. She felt safe and secure, just like in her dream… There was nothing around that could ever bring her harm again. And she couldn't believe that it was Vegeta who had saved her. She looked up at him to find that he was out of breath. Did he run all the way here because he knew she was in trouble? Or did he… fly?

"What the hell were you thinking, woman!" he screamed at her, his heavy breathing getting in the way of him reprimanding her. It only seemed to get him angrier, though. Bulma couldn't understand why she didn't mind in the slightest. It was as if nothing he said could have ruined her elated mood. She wasn't going to die. It was the best news she had ever heard in her entire life. Or was it that Vegeta had just rushed to save her life?

She knew one thing for certain. High school was turning into a more interesting adventure than she thought it would be.


	7. Stalking

**Chapter Six: Stalking**

"What in the world were you thinking?!" Vegeta bellowed, waving a hand in the air as if she was some helpless child and he was her father. "You would have gotten yourself killed if I didn't happen to come across your frightened and pathetic energy signal!"

Energy signal? What was he talking about?

"And you made me fly all the way over here just to rescue your pretty little behind from some stupid little fire! Do you have any idea how much that pisses me off?!"

 _Fly_? He couldn't be serious?

"And for what? To rescue that scrawny excuse for an Earthling male?! You're a hopeless little girl. Did you know that? How could you care for someone like that low-life? It's inhuman! Especially for _you_!"

Earthling male? Low-life? Inhuman? What was he saying? That he wasn't human? But she knew that much already, didn't she? Maron had told her that much at least… _Maron_ …

Bulma sighed. What could Maron do to her anyway? That girl couldn't make her life a living hell, as she had promised, should Bulma decided to break their incomplete deal. That blue-haired girl could do nothing to her to make her life bad. And it didn't really matter now, did it? She was lying on the ground in such a happy mood, with Vegeta literally screaming his head off at her as he stood over her, his eyes burning holes through her face with every death-stare he threw at her. It was inevitable now. He had saved her life, and there was no use staying away from him. She still had to say thank-you to him for saving her life. And she had so many questions! If she didn't get answers now, she felt like she might just explode.

Just then, Goku appeared out of nowhere, landing from the sky, Chichi in his arms. _No wonder Goku was in on it_ , she thought. _He can do the same things Vegeta can. What's all this about?_

"Bulma?" Chichi asked, running over to her. Shock crossed her features and Bulma soon realized that this wasn't what the three of them wanted at all. It looked like Vegeta had come to rescue her without consulting the other two about it first. Was that bad?

"Hi, Chichi," she said shyly, not sure if she was in trouble or not.

"I think we both have a reason to disobey our orders now," Goku said to Vegeta. Bulma tilted her head in confusion at his statement.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Vegeta spat in return. Then they both looked at her and turned away. Apparently she wasn't supposed to hear what they had just said to each other. She burned their lines into her brain for later analyzing.

"Bulma, are you alright?" Chichi's worried expression was genuine. "What happened to you? Did you go into the school when it was on fire? Why would you do something like that? Don't you know that it's dangerous? What if Vegeta hadn't come? You'd be burned alive in there!"

She was going to say that she was trying to help Yamcha get out, but the words got caught in her throat. Yamcha…

"I got the black-haired boy," Goku said, answering her unspoken question. "He's fine. You don't have to worry about him. He's safe and sound. Not a scratch on him." Goku smiled at his little triumph as if the rescue had just been a game for him. Bulma wondered if it really had been like that.

"Try not to blabber too much about us being here, woman," Vegeta growled, still angry from before. She looked up at him as he turned on her. Bulma couldn't fathom why rescuing her would make him angry like that.

"Oh, Bulma! Your hands are all scratched up. Did you hurt yourself?"

Bulma and Vegeta both knew that her only wounds had come from him throwing her against the ground when he got her out of the school building. Bulma hoped with all her heart that it had been an accident and smiled up at Chichi, "Yeah, but I'm fine. It's not as bad as what could have been."

"You can say that again. Lucky it was only a few scratches."

"You know, Bulma," Goku interrupted, "The school is going to be closed for a while. The only thing that the other students are doing is waiting for a ride from the buses. If you wanted to go home instead of waiting—"

"What the hell do you think you're _doing_ , Kakarot?!" Vegeta asked angrily. "Who do you think is going to take her home? Because I'm no one's _babysitter_! She can go wait with the rest of the pathetic idiots up on that hill! I'm not taking her _anywhere_! And don't say that _you_ will because I'm not taking your little raven home for you!" Chichi grunted and folded her arms, obviously knowing that "raven" meant her.

Bulma felt like she had been struck in the heart with a sharp dagger. She also felt like it made it all the way through her and was currently jutting out of her back. It wasn't like a pinch. It was like all the blood in her heart would soon be spilled out. There would be none left inside her. She would slowly and painfully die, and there would be no one to save her. No one to rescue her this time…

"Vegeta!" Goku cried, seeing the hurt expression on Bulma's face.

"What? Do you want me to apologize? Well, you can forget about it! I'm leaving!" And then he was back in the sky, flying off to… someplace quiet, maybe. That was Bulma's guess, anyway. Somewhere to be alone. Secluded from the rest of the people on the planet.

"Don't let him get to you, Bulma," Chichi comforted. He's just a little… mean, sometimes, I guess. It's just how he acts. Although I'm not sure why he's so angry all of a sudden. I mean, he's usually angry, but this takes the cake. I'm sure it's not you, though. He has a lot on his mind. We had a very…involved conversation before we came here. And I think that's why he's so upset and easily set off. He'll be back to normal before we know it."

Bulma wasn't really listening to Chichi, but what she did hear was Goku's next line.

"Chichi, I think our orders are now, somehow… unimportant to Vegeta… and I think it's because of this girl…"

"Are you crazy? Did you see how he just acted towards her? And those things he said…" Chichi paused, "You know, maybe you're right. I never thought about it like that…"

"Thought about what like what?" Bulma asked, and they turned to her with the same expressions from before. Apparently, she wasn't supposed to be listening to that conversation either.

"I… It's nothing," Chichi stammered.

"Vegeta's right, though," Goku said to Bulma, "Maybe you shouldn't tell anyone about us being here. It's for the best. Can you do that for us?"

"I… guess so."

"Thanks. You know, it wouldn't be such a great idea for you to leave for home right now anyway. Now that I thought about it, I realize that they still have to take attendance. If you left now, they might think that you died inside the building. And that wouldn't be too good."

"Yeah. You're right," she said, watching Goku pick up Chichi and jump into the air. She could feel the pressure of her endless questions weighing her down like a thousand weights strapped to her body. "Thank you for your help," she quickly called.

"Don't thank us. It was actually Vegeta who found you and told us to come along to find you… And Bulma," he added, "I don't think he would have found your signal unless he was specifically looking for you _before_ you were in danger." He smiled, waved, and then flew off out of sight, leaving Bulma to her own confused and jumbled thoughts.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"Bulma!" Yamcha called, running over to her and hugging her, lifting her off the ground as he did so. "Hey, everyone! Over here! It's Bulma! She's safe!"

People crowded around to see the damage, but Bulma knew that there was none, thanks to her mysterious dream boy. He had so many secrets. Secrets she was sure she'd find out eventually. She had already found out so much because of pure persistence.

Bulma saw Maron out of the corner of her eye. She was standing away, looking disappointed, as if she was hoping that Bulma never came back out of that building unless it was in a body bag. There was no way she was going to stay away from Vegeta, now. And there was no way that Maron could make her life a living hell. She felt proud. The new girl just outsmarted the Queen Bee. It didn't seem all that difficult, but it still amused her, nonetheless.

"Are you hurt?" Yamcha asked, a few other people nodding, saying that they had the same exact question on their minds. Bulma just nodded. She wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself, but almost being killed because she was trapped inside a burning building made her a bit traumatized. Her brain wasn't working to its best ability, so a nod was all that question was getting as an answer.

"Are you sure?" the pregnant teacher asked, rushing through the crowd to take a good look at her. Bulma got the feeling that she wouldn't have cared if she lived or died. It would just seem like another event in her boring life. Aside from the fact that she was pregnant. She sighed at her disturbing thoughts. The only thing this crazy teacher had on her was that she'd had sex before and Bulma hadn't. But that wasn't much, seeing as Bulma was probably smarter and genuinely, overall, better than the lady. At the idea of sex, her thought instantly went back to Vegeta and she had to stare at Yamcha's face for a few seconds and push him to start talking to her for the vibrant and exotic thoughts that were beginning to enter her mind. Man, did she have one hell of an imagination…

"I'm fine," she told the teacher, finding her voice. She was still staring at Yamcha so he would talk already. She could just picture it now. Vegeta slowly peeling off his tight shirt in her bedroom.

"What are you staring at?" Yamcha asked, and Bulma thanked the spirits that her thoughts never got any further. Otherwise, she would have had a mental breakdown in front of the entire population of Orange Star High School. And that wouldn't be very good. Not good at all…

She felt Maron's beady eyes burning into her once again, and couldn't help but look her way once more. She was now scowling, as if she knew that the incomplete promise had been broken. Bulma looked away with the odd feeling that breaking the rules hadn't been such a good idea after all. She then turned her attention to the building behind her. The fire department had arrived no too long ago. Most of the building had been saved, but, bless her shitty luck, the parts of the high school that she had travelled through were burnt, almost to the ground. She hoped that most of her classes were in those parts. Maybe she could skip school without getting in trouble that way.

"Nothing," Bulma replied to Yamcha, looking back up at his face. "I'm just so happy you're okay." Bulma mentally laughed when his face went beat red in the most amazing blush she had ever seen.

"I can't believe you really went in there for me…" he said, lost for any other words.

"Well, I'm your friend, aren't I?" she replied with a grin, but something about what she said made his expression falter. She pushed it aside. "I'm just glad _I'm_ okay."

They both laughed.

"Look," Yamcha said eagerly, pointing to the parking lot, "The buses are here."

Bulma turned and saw the big yellow buses arriving. She and Yamcha waited until everyone was dismissed, and then made her way to the front parking lot with him, to her small white car.

"See you tomorrow," he said, "Or whenever they decide to reopen the school. Hopefully never."

"You can say that again," she giggled, unlocking her car door and stepping inside. She realized that her purse was still inside the school. She hoped it wasn't burned or ruined, including the things that were inside. But then she realized that she'd rather it be burned than have someone steal it. Or worse. Her money was in her purse… The change for the money Vegeta had given her on the first day of school. She didn't know why she felt so attached to a few dollar bills and a couple quarters. It was a bit sentimental to her. That was all. It had been one of the few nice things Vegeta had done for her, and she was happy when he did. It made her happy when she remembered. And she remembered when she saw that money. She jumped when she realized that she was crying. A fresh teardrop had fallen and landed on her steering wheel. Another fell right after and landed on her hand in her lap. Why was she crying?

She looked out the window. Yamcha was already in his car and leaving the parking lot. She didn't want to get stuck behind the buses, so she shoved the keys in the ignition and followed a few cars behind him.

She didn't want him to see her crying.

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"What was that all about? You drag us along to rescue her, and then you make her upset like that?! Are you bipolar or something, because I'm starting to suspect something like that."

"Don't be stupid, Kakarot. She deserved whatever I told her. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't even be here right now."

"What do you mean? You don't _have_ to be here. She's perfectly capable of safely driving herself home without getting into a fatal car crash."

"Obviously, she may not be. She was having a mental breakdown when she left the school."

"You mean she was _crying_? That's not a mental breakdown, Vegeta. That's you being a jackass to her."

"Nobody asked you, _raven_!" he spat, turning on her. He'd almost forgotten that she was there with them. Why did Kakarot have to bring her everywhere with them? She was just a pain in the ass. Plain and simple.

"Lucky you don't have to," she replied coldly, turning her shoulder to him.

"If that's what you call luck, then I—"

"Excuse me," Goku butted-in, "But why are we here again, Vegeta?"

"Because I said so! Do you have a problem with that?!" he whipped around, snarling at the other boy.

"Geez," he whimpered, then asked, "Do you mind if I get Chichi home?"

"You mean you want to leave? I really wouldn't mind I you two idiots left me to my own business. All you do is annoy me anyway. It's not like I really need you. Especially _her_ ," he said, pointing to Chichi.

"You know what, Goku?" she said harshly, "I think it would be best if we left Vegeta alone. You don't have to come back here after you drop me off. You can stay with me. I'll make a special surprise for dinner. I'm sure you'll like it."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. After mentioning food, there was no coming back for Goku. But instead, his anger got the best of him and he snorted, "That's right Kakarot. Go home to your little raven's bed and fuck her up all night. Make her scream your name over and over because she's all you can get. Even I can do better than _that_!"

The next thing he knew, Goku's fist was flying towards his face, but it stopped only a fraction of an inch before it made contact. "Just say that one more time, and see what happens." Vegeta snarled when Goku's hair twitched a little and blazed gold for a second in his anger.

Vegeta was about to respond with another comment that would have probably ignited the flare to start the fight when a small white car pulled into the driveway below them.

"Don't have too much fun," Goku said bitterly, before taking Chichi into his arms and flying off beyond the trees.

Vegeta turned back to the white car and watched from above as the aqua-haired Earthling female exited her car. He heard a whimper come from her lips and noticed that she was still crying. It was a miracle she didn't crash. Her eyes were filled to the brim with water. He watched her move, silently, as he maneuvered around the area to be able to see her at all times. She went into her house via the back door and shut it behind her. _Stupid girl_ , he thought, noticing how she neglected to lock the door as she went inside. Although he didn't mind. It made his job a lot easier.

He made his way to the backyard, which was lined with trees. He crouched in the shadows and watched her behind a pair of sliding-glass doors. She was in the kitchen now. He watched with a bored expression on his face as she dug through the refrigerator, looking for something to eat. _Comfort food_ , he thought, mentally laughing at her. _For what_ I _said, I presume_. This time he laughed out loud. A few birds flew up from the trees at his obscene noise. He slid to the ground, lying flat on his stomach as the female looked out the glass doors towards the flock of nervous birds. And then she closed the blinds. Vegeta mentally growled. Sure, she could remember to close the blinds, but not lock the damn door. He rubbed his temples in mock-anger. How could even be angry at her this time? She didn't even know he was here.

He felt her energy as she ascended the stairs. When she finally entered a room with a window, Vegeta sighed hopelessly. What was he doing here? He saw her safely home. That had been his original intent. So then why was he still here? What in the world was he doing, spying on her like some stalker? Maybe he was a stalker… He laughed at the thought. Him, having to stalk a girl. It was outright hilarious. He didn't need to stalk any females. All he had to do was walk right up to them and harshly throw them against his bed. There would be no need for stalking _then_. He would be able to do whatever he pleased with whomever he desired.

The fact that he hadn't thrown this female onto his bed yet was what puzzled him. Clearly, if he wanted to mate with her, he would have done so already. So then… What else was there to do with a female? And what would possess him to sink so low as to stalk her on her own property? He shrugged to himself, then realized with a jolt where the female was… and what she was doing.

He mentally gave a hopeless sigh. She could remember to shut the blinds in the kitchen and forget to lock the door, but she couldn't remember to close the shades in her own goddamn bathroom! What was wrong with this girl?!

He didn't know why he did it, but when he noticed her pulling off her shirt, he turned around and sat up against a tree, his back to the house. Didn't he want to watch her? What a stupid question. Of course he did! But then why wasn't he…? Why had he turned around as if she could accuse him of watching her later? There was definitely something wrong with his brain at that point. It was official. Even he admitted it…

But when he turned around to look, she was already fully dressed for bed. It was the middle of the day, for crying out loud! Why was she dressed for bed? A part of him wished she would open her bedroom window and tell him that she knew he was there and to get lost. It would give him an excuse to leave, since he obviously couldn't think if one on his own.

Then he remembered why he had come here. The first was to make sure she didn't crash her car into a tree on the way home. And the second…

He sat in silence until he felt her pulse slow down and her energy relax. He opened his eyes to find that the sun had moved quite a bit. It was sunset.

Her heartbeat and body movements for the past hour had been jerky and irregular. The only sensible explanation was that she had been crying again. He actually found himself feeling a little bad about what he had said about her, but he had been angry… and Kakarot had been right. That was why he was here. The second reason. Because, above all else, he had to follow his given orders. There was no other way to go about this. He had to perform this task or his life would be in jeopardy. It was that simple. The aqua-haired female had to…

He made his way out of the cover of the shadows under the trees and walked over to the unlocked back door. He turned the doorknob and solemnly entered the huge building. It was obvious now that this girl had a good deal of money, although he expected as much when she brought a credit card to the lunchroom back at school.

Like a predator, he quietly made his way through the rooms, finding his way easily by the female's trail. She had left her unique scent behind her every time she took a step, and it eventually led him right to her bedroom. He noiselessly opened the door. Its hinges didn't even squeak. He peered inside at the female. She was sleeping gently atop her sheets and blanket. Her body heat was high. It had been because she was hot. Now that he noticed it, the temperature was a bit high in this room. Or maybe it was just him.

He swept over to the edge of the bed like a snake and looked down at her sleeping form. The gentile rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in. Out. In. Out. All in careful rhythm. How could he possibly do something like this?

He violently shook his head. Once doubt stated placing itself inside his head, it was all over. He had to do this, and he had to do it now. Before it was too late. She could wake up any second now. Humans could also sense the presence of another being, just like he could. But theirs only stemmed a short distance. Right now, he was more than close enough for the aqua-haired female to sense him. What would he say if she woke up to find him standing over her bed? He would have to do it then…

Why did the idea of ridding himself of this nuisance make him want to vomit? It wasn't as if he'd never killed a human female before. It was easy. There were so many ways to do it. He could even have pleasure before killing them. _No_! Not this one. He couldn't do that to this one…

Why not? It wasn't like he didn't desire her anyway. Why not kill two birds with one stone? It was so simple. So _easy_.

 _No! Not her! Not her! Not her!_

Before he knew what he was doing, Vegeta was swiftly and silently running down the stairs at top speed. He had to get out of here. He couldn't stay here. He didn't like the feeling of this house. He needed to get out. He needed to break free. He couldn't breathe in here. He needed air. He was going to suffocate if he didn't get out.

Locking the door behind him, his knees collided with the ground outside the back door with a thud. He looked at his hands. There was no blood. That one decision had changed everything. Everything was different now. He couldn't do it. Why couldn't he kill this pathetic Earthling female, who unknowingly caused him all this pain and anguish? For all the trouble she was worth, why hadn't he killed her when he had the chance? What stopped him? What _could_ have stopped him? All he knew was that his plan had gone all wrong. Nothing could be done about it…

He now had to disobey his orders.


	8. Transitions

**Chapter Seven: Transitions**

Bulma woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. Luckily, she had a phone in her bedroom as well as in every room downstairs. They all connected to the same line anyway. It was just for convenience purposes.

She got out of bed and groggily dragged her feet across the room to her phone. Looking at the receiver, the name said Orange Star High, so she let the answering machine get it. Of course, it was an automated message from the principal.

" _School will be closed for the rest of the week. The students' new schedules should arrive in the mail before the following Monday, when school will resume. Your classes will be the same, but the locations will be different. Because of the fire, trailers will be parked in the back parking lot of the High School and will be numbered accordingly. Follow your new schedules when you get them._

" _Regarding the fire today in Orange Star High School, the cause is still under investigation, but there are suspects among the students who had been carrying a pack of matches and a lighter at the time of the evacuation. These students' names will not be revealed due to legal matters, but the situation is nearly resolved and I can personally assure you and your families that it is under control_."

Bulma sighed and hit the delete button on the receiver. She didn't need that message. All she really needed to know was that she would be getting a new schedule in the mail and school resumed on the following Monday. She rolled her eyes. No one made a big deal about anything regarding a high school. Especially the students in it.

She glanced at the red numbers on her clock next to her bed. It read 9:45 PM. She must have been asleep for a few hours. She hadn't been all that tired, but it was enough, and she never had anything to do. She didn't even have that much homework.

As she made her way down the stairs, her stomach growled. She laughed at the noise. Of course she was hungry. She had skipped lunch at school and found nothing she was in the mood for in the refrigerator when she got back home, so she had gone to bed, also missing dinner. It wasn't like anyone cared. She was the only person in the house, so she could eat whenever she felt like it. She went to the cabinet to the right of the stove and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. She grabbed a spoon and headed for the living room.

Seeing as she just had a nice long nap, it was no use trying to go back to bed. She would just end up staring at the ceiling with a bored expression on her face for the entire night. Remembering something, she placed her snack on the coffee table and made her way to the back door. She didn't want to forget to lock it before she hit the couch, or she wouldn't be able to get back up. She opened the door to her garage and stepped outside. She went to turn the metal pinch on the back of the doorknob, but realized that it was already vertical. It should have been horizontal, meaning it was unlocked. She specifically remembered leaving it unlocked when she got home because it gave her something to do before she went to bed. She never locked it until dark…

She peered outside for a moment, but got frightened by the wind and slammed the door shut with a shudder. Checking to make sure that the door really was locked, she scratched her head in confusion. It certainly was locked, but she hadn't done it… That meant that someone else did…

Bulma turned around to scan the garage, but it was nearly empty, so there was no place for a person to hide. She suddenly felt the urge to leave her house. What if there was someone inside, waiting for her? What if it was a big burly man with a knife or a gun? God, she didn't even have her cell phone with her. And even if she did, who would she call anyway? It wasn't like she had any friends around here that she could stay with for a night. Or, rather, not anymore.

She slowly opened the door back into her house and tried to walk at a normal pace. If she walked too carefully, then someone might notice that she was more cautious than usual, so she attempted to act natural… which failed. She ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife she could find. If she was going to be attacked, she wasn't going down without a fight…

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Vegeta sighed. What in the world was she doing? After getting out of bed, she went to the back door, and then raced inside like some crazed maniac and grabbed a large knife. Of course, he knew why. She noticed that he had locked the door for her. He hadn't expected her to come back out and lock it herself, but he didn't want to just leave it so that anyone could get inside. But that was stupid, because he was sitting in her backyard, watching her silhouette though the shades and the curtains. She couldn't see him, but he watched her every move. What was the point of locking the back door if he planned on staying here the entire night…?

And what the hell was he doing here _now_? He'd already proven that he wasn't about to murder her in hot blood. He'd locked her door to make sure she was safe. And all he accomplished was proving that he was a spineless coward and that he could frighten her into thinking that there was a mad killer hiding somewhere in her house. Although he did have fun watching her silhouette jerk open closet doors and then have a coat or a shelf scare her so much that he felt the blood drain from her face. He chuckled when she stabbed into the air, thinking she saw a person's shadow.

He felt like he was watching a movie that he'd watch a million times over. He knew that there was no one else in the entire building but her because there were no other energy signals but hers, so her jumps and yelps were only forms of entertainment for him.

As he sat in the damp grass, he closed his eyes, feeling out every move she made, every breath she took, every sudden rise and fall of her chest as she startled herself around corners, and every fragile beat of her delicate heart. What the hell was he doing here?

He'd already told himself that he wasn't going to kill her. He'd told himself over twenty times by now. And he was _still_ saying it, almost as if he couldn't believe it unless he said it again and again, just to hammer it into his mind.

He stood up. It was almost ten at night now, and Vegeta could feel his eyes getting heavier. Sitting around all day doing nothing tended to make him tired. So did stress…

What the _hell_ was he doing here? The female had finished her monster hunt and was now sitting down. Her heartbeats were still moody, as if she expected to be attacked at any moment now. Stabbed in the back, he presumed. Her back muscles were tightened as if in defense from an oncoming attack to her south side. It was a natural defense mechanism for humans to tighten their muscles when they felt they were about to be attacked. It lessened the pain and the human had to suffer less anxiety from being startled that way. It was common, but he never thought he'd see this female act in such a defensive way in her own home. Part of him wanted to jump through the window and punch her in the back. Yet, another part of him wanted to knock on her door to tell her that he had locked her backdoor and that there was no one in the house but her and a few bugs, and young mice in the basement.

Something about the way she acted when she was afraid made him want to destroy whatever was causing her distress. It was extremely unnerving to him and he wanted it to stop immediately.

But he knew that he couldn't just knock on her door and tell her that everything was alright. Because everything wasn't alright. And if he showed himself to her just to talk to her before it was absolutely necessary, everything would be even worse. It was as if it could never get better. The only solution was to get rid of her. But there was no way to do that unless he murdered her or sat down and talked with her about the things that he'd never told anyone in his entire life.

Killing her would be the easiest and most convenient choice… Or so he'd thought. But there was no way he'd sit down and _talk_ with her. He might as well indirectly kill her.

Then he realized that he could have just let her die in that fire… And if he had taken her home after he rescued her, like Kakarot had told him to, everyone would have thought that she was still inside the burning building… And he could have just left the body there. No one would have known if he burned her skin badly enough. But he'd known that all along. He distinctly remembered catching onto her energy signal in the burning building and knowing that he could have just let her die in there. But he also remembered feeling that he couldn't just stand there and watch her from the other side of the glass doors as she burned alive. He also knew that he wouldn't have been able to deal with her last thoughts revolving around the fact that he was actually watching her die, when he could have helped her.

Vegeta froze. He hadn't realized it until it was too late, but he was standing on the aqua-haired female's doorstep and, _damn_ , ringing the doorbell. He jumped aside swiftly and hid against the side of the house as the female walked to the front door and opened it. He watched her from the shadows as she stepped outside and looked around, frightened by the lack of a person after the doorbell rang.

What was he doing here? All he was accomplishing was frightening her over and over again. He couldn't show himself. He didn't want her to know he was standing only a couple feet away from her. He didn't want her to know that he was a predator. That he had been stalking her, as much as he hated to admit it. And she was easy prey, too. All Earthlings were. They couldn't help it.

And yet, all he had to do was quickly reach out one or two feet in front of himself and grab her by her tiny and vulnerable throat. Then all he would have to do is twist the jaw upward to the right, and the top of the head down to the left…

He watched in silence as she closed the door behind her, locking it on her way back inside. He chuckled at the dry humor in the simple action. In all honesty, they had both locked him out of the house. Maybe that was supposed to tell him something. To stay away, maybe? He didn't know.

His orders were still unable to be followed, thanks to this aqua-haired problem. Why couldn't he just come up with a solution for it? Kakarot had already decided not to follow his orders after he met that raven. He even had the nerve to ask the Prince of Saiyans himself to go along with the fatal idea… And now he was faced with the same ordeal. He didn't want to become like Kakarot and his raven, disobeying orders. That kind of shit was what was going to get them both killed. He, on the other hand, was going to do as he was told. And he would be rewarded with more women than this Earthling female could count. So why _not_ kill her? Wasn't the glory and the rewards worth the little bit of trouble it would cost him?

But then, what was this feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if every blow he delivered to this female would hurt him ten thousand times as much? It was something he'd never felt before. And his thoughts, as he raced out of her bedroom after standing over her… The hunter deciding how he liked his meat. He had mentally screamed at himself to get away from her, as if _he_ was the threat. The threat that he had to get rid of. Ha! The idea of it made him laugh aloud.

Once again, he thought about how he had either intentionally or unintentionally locked himself out of her house as he had exited the back door.

What the hell was he doing here?

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Bulma rolled over on the uncomfortable mattress. She sat up and groaned. No wonder it was uncomfortable. This was no mattress. This was the _couch_. She looked up. The television was still on from the previous night. She dug under her left shoulder for the remote and hit the round, red power button. She was afraid to get up for fear of finding a mirror and actually being forced to look at her disheveled hair. It probably looked like a big blue mop that had just been used to clean up her kitchen floor. Speaking of the kitchen, she certainly hoped that there was no dried peanut butter in her hair. That would take _way_ too long to get out for her liking.

She began to stretch her arms over her head, and the motion turned into a loud yawn that eventually hurt her face. She blinked a few times to get the morning sand out of her eyes and finally stood up. She staggered as she walked, holding onto the walls as she did so, to the stairs. She lifted her legs, one at a time, to place them on each of the steps and then prepared them to take the weight off of the other half of her body as she lifted the other leg to place it on the next step.

When she reached the carpet, she fell to her knees and dragged herself into her bedroom. She glanced at the clock to find that it was a little past three in the afternoon. She sighed. Most of the day was already gone because of her irregular sleeping schedule.

She went to her comfy bed and looked around. Her purse was still at the school. She really wanted that money back. It was the only thing she had that reminded her of Vegeta. Just thinking about him was easy on its own. She didn't need the money to imagine herself in his arms. She could do that without even realizing it.

But that didn't take away the fact that she still wanted it back. Besides, her purse had other things besides the money that she wanted back. An example was her favorite Chapstick. Of course, she had others, but the one in her purse seemed to make her lips softer and plumper than any others. Not that they needed it. She didn't like to brag, but she knew she was pretty. Then there was her lipstick. It wasn't like she needed that one either, but her mother had given it to her last year on her birthday. It was sentimental to her. Another thing, she quickly remembered, was her multitudes of credit cards. She only carried two of them in that specific purse, but they had no dollar limit. And one of them was her black card. Plus her driver's license and such.

Knowing that someone could find her purse and spend all her parents' money was the deal-breaker, though. Her eyes snapped open and she tried to act like she was wide awake to fool her brain into behaving as such. She raced back downstairs and grabbed her keys and a special baggy for emergencies only. Then she was out the door and heading straight for her car. A movement to her left, in the backyard's tree line, caught her eye. But when she looked over and thought she saw something, she knew it must have been her imagination. After all, how could that be possible? …

She shook her head. Her mind was imagining Vegeta even when she didn't have him on her mind, which wasn't that often anyway. She started the engine and rolled down her windows. It was a warm day, so the inside of the small white car felt like an oven, preheated and ready to go.

She sped out of the driveway. She knew speeding would only get her there a few seconds earlier, but it just made her feel better, so she did it anyway.

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Vegeta looked up at the sudden movement of the aqua-haired female. She ran out of her house and he ducked back under the cover of the trees and the shadows. She looked over, in his general area, and he felt her pulse quicken. Had she seen him? No, she was turning back to the white vehicle. But she thought she saw something. He felt the strange urge to wish that he could know what she had been thinking at that moment. He wanted to know if he had to keep hiding, or if he could come out yet. But still, why the hell was he here?

He kept a close distance flying above her car, watching to make sure no one else saw him, as she drove down the driveway. He noted how she didn't exactly have the best driving skills in the entire world. He kept a mental note of that for later use.

He realized that she was heading for the school when she went down the right paths for it. Two blocks, make a left, three blocks, another left, one block, make a right, and four blocks down was Orange Star High. But why was she going back to this place. He didn't underestimate her ability to forget that school didn't start up again for another few days. Tomorrow would be Friday, then the weekend. School reopened after that, not before. He had heard the message on her home phone from outside.

He perched himself in a faraway tree branch and watched closely as she exited the car. The only other vehicles in the entire parking lot, front and back, only held two construction vehicles. And from Vegeta's senses, they had gone out for their lunch breaks. He and the female were completely alone next to a wrecked school. A part of him was excited by the idea, but he pushed it away defensively. After all, what was so exciting about it? It wasn't like they could do anything, and he was under the assumption that if she saw him, she might scream for help or do something else that was stupidly outrageous.

When she pulled a bag out of the passenger' seat in her car and locked the door behind her, Vegeta moved from his position, preparing to follow her… What the hell was he doing here _this_ time?

He watched as she pulled out the most unexpected item, a Master Key, and unlocked the school doors. She entered and Vegeta quickly followed. Not making noise wasn't a problem for him. He could do it without thinking. He reopened the door, thankful that it didn't lock on its own, and entered the building.

If he had felt like a stalker _before_ , _now_ he felt like an intruding pedophile. He was making himself look pathetic and spineless on _purpose_. What the fuck was wrong with him? He had some sort of mental problem. He had deduced that much from his actions over the past fifteen hours. He hadn't eaten or slept in all that time either and he was starting to feel the repercussions of his stupidity. Nonetheless, he followed the aqua-haired female's energy signal until he was only a single hallway away from her. He could feel himself holding his breath, but then let it out, feeling even more idiotic than before. He held his breath for no one!

He leaned his head back to peer down the hallway to find that it was clear. The female had entered one of the classrooms. He decided that he'd wait her out.

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Bulma entered the dark classroom and flicked the light switch against the wall. It didn't work. She tried it a few more times with the same result until finally giving up on lights. She scanned around the chemistry room. This was where she had left her purse, but it was no longer here. She guessed that one of the janitors or fire department officials grabbed it and put it somewhere. Maybe it was in the Lost-and-Found area. She decided that she'd go there next.

She exited the classroom. Someone must have taken it, because the fire hadn't reached this part of the High School. The classroom was untouched. She also noticed how everyone else's things were still leaning against chairs or plopped onto the floor. But her purse was missing. She paused, thinking for a moment, and then went back through the door. Looking around the black-topped lab desk, she found her book bag. So that meant that someone had taken her purse on purpose. There were plenty of other purses lying around the room. But it seemed as if nothing had been disturbed, apart from her belongings. Her book bag had obviously been sorted through.

With a confused sigh, Bulma made her way to the lost and found. The dark hallways of the school were starting to freak her out. She felt like there were many eyes on her, bearing into her skin from all angles. She wanted nothing more than to leave the building. She no longer cared about the Lost-and-Found. She knew her purse wasn't going to be there. No one would go through the trouble of taking it just to put it in a different spot.

No. Whoever had it was keeping it at their side. And Bulma wanted nothing more than to get out of there. _Immediately_.

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Vegeta strolled along, his hands in his pockets, waiting for the aqua-haired female to get out of the damn classroom and do something that wouldn't leave him bored in a dark school hallway.

Vegeta felt at home in the dark. It made him comfortable and calm. He could hide in the darkness. He could conceal himself in the shadows. When nightfall came every twelve hours, a sense of right always washed over him. Gloomy atmospheres were where he belonged.

The female began to move, so Vegeta slid up against the wall once again, forgetting about his previous thoughts. His mind was now focused on the female and what she was doing. Or planned on doing, for that matter.

When she rounded another corner, he waited a few seconds, and then slunk against the bottom panel of the far wall. He passed the chemistry room and breathed in her musky scent. It was intoxicating for a moment. He felt like a non-reformed alcoholic drinking after a long and arduous postponement of the inevitable.

Just then, the female's adrenaline spiked, and Vegeta regained all his senses. He reached the end of the hallway, but by the time he realized that his action had been incorrect, it was too late. Her gentle shadow fell on him as she rushed around the corner.

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Bulma ran around the corner, not wanting to spend any more time in this freak house than she needed to. But not before she was smacked in the face with déjà vu. As she turned, she banged headfirst into her dream boy. She knew it was him right as she rounded the corner, but she was already moving, so she couldn't catch herself in time.

Instead, she ended up lying on the floor with a pain in the side of her head, as a cross-armed Vegeta stood above her… frowning.

"What do you think you're doing, woman?"

Bulma put her mind on pause for a second. He was asking her what she was doing… as he followed her without permission… she mentally shrugged to herself.

"I could have asked you the same question," she replied, standing up and brushing off her pants.

"Well, you didn't. So answer mine."

"I'm looking for my purse because it has my credit cards in it. But I haven't found it, so I think it was stolen, because nothing else is moved around in the classroom over there." She paused again. "So what are _you_ doing, Vegeta? Following me?"

"I don't _follow_ anyone, woman," he spat, as if the word was a disease or just plain bad luck. "I was watching you in case you got hurt. The other people who are working here just left. There are no more vehicles in the parking lot. I didn't think it was right to leave you by yourself. What if you did something wrong? I felt it was my obligation to make sure you didn't steal anything," he mocked.

"I think you and your _obligations_ can leave me alone now. And why would you care? From what I heard last, you couldn't give a damn about me and what I do with my life."

"I _did_ save your pretty little ass, didn't I?"

Vegeta watched as the expression on the female changed dramatically. Her face was bright red, contrasting with her bright blue hair. "Were you at my _house_?!" she angrily asked, realization dawning on her. The locked door. The doorbell. The tree line. "Answer me!" she demanded when a response didn't come.

"Why would I be at your house, woman? I have much better things to do with my time than hang around you all day. Besides, you're of no interest to me. Why would I even _want_ to follow you?"

"Don't play stupid with me!" she cried, "Man up and admit that you followed me here. That you stalked me at my house, and that you pestered me by ringing my fucking doorbell and running off like some coward!" Her face went even redder when she realized something else. "Did you come _inside_ my house when I was asleep?! It was _you_ who locked my door, wasn't it? Well?!"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I told you already. I have no desire to look at you any more than I have to. In fact, I don't know why I'm still here. Your presence seems to bother me a little too much for my liking." He shrugged, as if he was telling the truth and he had no control over it.

Bulma roared and pushed him out of her way, making for the exit. She made it to the door and pulled it open a few inches before it was slammed shut from a hand over her head. She whipped around and made a face.

"What is it now?" she snapped at him.

"You're right," he said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me? Care to elaborate?"

"You know damn well what I mean, woman. Yes, I was at your house. Yes, I rang your fucking doorbell for my own amusement. Yes, I followed you here. And yes, I came into your house when you were asleep. In all honesty, I was actually debating with myself whether or not to kill you. It would have been easy, with you sound asleep like that. I could have snapped your little neck in a fraction of a second. And then I stayed there and followed you here thinking that I could have another chance to murder you, since I wasn't thinking clearly the first time. And the second, it appears. But it looks like I've been provided with a third chance, doesn't it?" he asked her threateningly. He could see that all the red in her face was gone, replaced with a pale hue. Every inch of color had been drained. She was finally seeing him for the predator that he was.

The female opened her mouth to say something, but the words never came to her as Vegeta stood in front of her, his hands on the wall to either side of her. There was no escape for her this time. This time, he had to do it. He had to follow his orders. His orders were his life. How could he give up something that meant so much to him?

And then he realized it. An important transition had just gone through his brain like a live wire. It wasn't his orders that were so important to him. It was… this fragile form in from of him. He now noticed that he wasn't standing in a threatening pose, although she probably would have disagreed with him if he told her that. But instead, he was in a defensive pose, his arms around her protectively. Was this what he had been missing?

He hadn't been at her house because he wanted to fulfill his given commands. He was there in case this pathetic Earthling female needed someone. He was there because she had been crying… because of _him_. He was there because she had been frightened because he locked her door. He stayed there as if to say that she was now safe. He rang her doorbell so he could visually see that she was alright. How could he have missed that? He had been so deeply rooted in carrying out his orders that he hadn't realized what his brain had been telling him all along. Ever since the first day she locked eyes with him. Ever since he felt her delicate presence behind him as he showed her where her first period class was.

He slowly removed his arms from the wall and stood there, facing her with a strange look in his eyes, as if an epiphany had just struck him through the chest like lightning. It certainly felt like it.

But as the aqua-haired female let out a quiet screech and ran out the door, it felt like a bomb had just replaced the lightning in his chest.


	9. Party Planet

**Chapter Eight: Party Planet**

Bulma rushed home, speeding the entire ride. When she turned into her driveway, she hit the curb and skidded to a halt. She had to back up and make the turn again. She could feel the beads of sweat falling off of her face at a hundred miles per hour. Her hand slipped on the steering wheel, but she caught it just in time and raced down the driveway.

When she hit the brakes, everything in the small white vehicle flew forward, but she didn't care. She grabbed her keys and jumped out of the car, running to the back door of her house. She fumbled with the key a bit before it stuck fast, unlocking the door. She panicked and tripped over the step, falling into her garage and scraping her knees. She jumped up and locked the door, slamming in shut as if she was being chased. She knew that Vegeta had remained in the school after she had run away, but she had the crazy feeling that he could be anywhere at any time, even without her knowing. He had actually gotten into her house, so she knew that her fear was typical of the situation, but she couldn't help it. He could do supernatural things, and now he was out to get her. Why would he want to kill her? What had she done wrong? When she first met him, she had been infatuated with what she had seen and she had fallen for his charms, but she felt like she had just met the monster under the mask. He was frighteningly intimidating, and now she didn't know what to do about it. She felt as if he could kill her whenever he liked, even if she had a thousand bodyguards to defend her. Even if she had the entire military before her to do as she commanded. It was as if he could do what he pleased and no one could stop him. It scared her like nothing else in the world.

She felt her breaths coming in sharp inhales and she opened the door to her house. He could be inside her home already for all she knew. She carefully made her way into the laundry room and then entered the kitchen, reaching for a knife as she had done before. Just this time, she had the horrible feeling that she might actually need to use it. The only difference was that she wasn't in the fighting mood. If he was planning on killing her, why couldn't he just do it and get it over with? Why did he have to frighten her so? It just felt like he wanted it this way. As if he was toying with her head.

Bulma let out an angry scream, hoping that it would make him come out from wherever he was hiding and just finish her off. After the silence set in again, she felt like she shouldn't have made a single sound. That lonely scream felt like her inevitable end. She had just manipulated her death into running headfirst into her like a raging bull. She felt her legs trembling beneath her. She had to sit down or she would collapse.

Gripping the knife tightly in her hand, she made her way to the stairs and looked up at the second floor of her house. There were so many places to hide. He could be anywhere. Involuntarily, she began to cry. She slumped to her knees and sobbed.

"Where are you?!" she cried up the stairs, "Come down here, you coward!" She was crying herself an ocean. She only wished that she could drown in it as well.

She stood up, knife held to her chest, ready to use it if necessary, and charged up the stairs, looking only in one direction. If he was going to attack her, she didn't want to watch it happen. She wanted to feel death touch her in one moment and die in the next. She wished he'd make it painless. Why did he need to do this? Why couldn't he have done it at the school instead of making her suffer so much in her own home?

She hoped he wouldn't make it bloody. Her parents never called her unless it was something important, so whenever they came back, they would find her mangled body, sprawled out on the carpet. She didn't want it to be bloody because she didn't want her mother to have to envision what had happened to her. If he just snapped her neck, they would find no blood. They wouldn't have to clean up the dried red mess she left behind when she passed away.

"Come out here, you bastard!" she screamed, feeling as if her lungs would explode with the pressure of her voice. "Don't quit now! You're already here! Just do it! Or are you to _afraid_?!"

She made it to the second flight of stairs and fidgeted around before storming up there as well, knife still held to her breast, ready for sudden use. When she reached her bedroom, it seemed as if everything was calmer. Of course he would be hiding in here. This was the most obvious place for him to be. She shuddered, but felt her fear dissipate. This was it. She was going to die here and there was nothing she could do about it. It was as if knowing could make it all better.

She stepped inside, picturing the light at the end of the tunnel. She wondered if she'd end up being peaceful after it was over. She had never believed in heaven or gods, but that seemed irrelevant now. If there was such a thing as heaven, she hoped she would be allowed in there so she could be with her parents when they passed away as well. And then she would wait. She would wait for Vegeta for as long as necessary, and then she would torture him for all eternity. She sighed, if that was what she was planning, she might as well wish to go to hell instead. There was no way Vegeta would be allowed in a place like heaven after he murdered her. He didn't even have a reason for doing it either, so she figured that he was pretty much screwed for his afterlife, if there was one.

She looked around. Her closet door was cracked. That's where he was. It was so freaking obvious. She giggled to herself. He couldn't have picked a more obvious place to hide.

"I know your there," she whispered, moving closer to the wooden door. "And I'm going to get you." She lifted her knife into the air, over her head. "You'll be sorry you ever messed with me, you bastard," she hissed.

And then she flung open the door with forced to be admired. She stared in horror at what she saw… It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wasn't in there.

Bulma screamed at the top of her lungs. " _Where are you_?!" She backed away until her bed came in contact with her legs, making her jump. She sat down and felt herself crying again. She had a headache from all her crying. It was annoying her.

Before she knew what she was doing, she picked up her cell phone from her nightstand and dialed the first number she had in her contacts. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?"

"You have to help me!"

"Bulma? Is that you? What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Please! He's trying to kill me! I don't want to be alone in here anymore. Please, Chichi! You have to help me!"

"Wait, what? Are you at your house?" It was a rhetorical question. "Hold on, Bulma. Goku and I will be right there. Don't go anywhere. You'll be fine, I promise."

And then she hung up. Bulma had never felt so alone in her life. She sat on her bed, listening to the violent beats of her heart against her rib cage. She wanted it to stop. The obnoxious noise could probably be heard all over the house. Chichi would never make it to her in time. It was over.

It felt like hours had gone by before a knock at her door made her jump and cry even harder. She listened to her front door open. That was him. She had locked her front door, so only he would be the type of person who could still get inside. She listened hopelessly as someone raced up the stairs and landed on the second floor.

"Mom, Dad," she whispered, closing her eyes, "I love you so much."

"Bulma! Hey! It's us. Are you okay? What's going on? What happened?"

Bulma opened her eyes. It was Chichi. Goku was standing behind her with a worried expression on his face. It also looked like he knew exactly what was going on, and yet he could do nothing to stop it.

"It's Vegeta," Bulma said hysterically, "He said he's going to kill me. You have to stay away from him, Chichi. He's not safe. He's in here somewhere, waiting."

Goku lifted his head and Chichi looked over at him. Bulma lifted an eyebrow at him when he put his head back down and shook his head. "No one's in here but us, Bulma."

"How do you know that?" she asked nervously. She watched as Chichi and her boyfriend exchanged sidelong glances, as if they were silently debating something between the two of them without letting Bulma know about it.

"Bulma," Chichi said quickly, "Why don't you come with us back to my house? I'm still having that party, remember? It's Friday. The party's tonight."

"You do understand though, don't you? You have to stay away from Vegeta. He's not safe. He said he wants to _kill_ me."

"Bulma," Goku said softly, gathering her full attention with his unusual tone, "I think we need to tell you a few things. They might help to clear things up a bit." He wrapped his arm around Chichi's shoulders, but she shook him off mock-delicately, as if she wanted to punch him in the gut.

"Goku, we can't tell her. It isn't—"

"Please don't tell me that it isn't my secret to tell, because you know very well that it is. It's my secret as much as it is Vegeta's. It's both our problem. It's not his any more than it is mine. And whether he likes it or not, Chichi, I think Bulma has a right to know. Especially if he told her that he wants her dead. It only proves how much more serious the situation is. And I have to have a nice long talk with Vegeta. I don't know what his intentions are, but if he actually wanted Bulma dead, we wouldn't be talking to her right now. She'd already be long gone. Maybe if I had a talk with him about our mission, then he would stop stressing over it.—"

"Wait," Bulma intervened, "You guys keep bringing up this mission. I don't know what that is, but it seems like it now involves me from what you say. I think I should know what it is. It's not fair if you keep it from me after my life has been threatened over it. You need to tell me what it is."

"We're Saiyans," Goku said flatly.

"Excuse me?"

"Vegeta and I weren't born on this planet. You and Chichi are Earthlings. We're Saiyans."

"You're kidding me, right?" Bulma said, a giggle coming up her throat. "All I ask is for you to be straightforward with me and you make up some stupid joke?!" In one instant, Bulma was on her bed, on the nice soft carpeting of her bedroom floor, but the next, she was on her bed, floating in midair. She let out a small yelp when she realized that the only thing holding her bed up was one of Goku's arms. The other was comfortably at his side as he couldn't help but smirk at her.

"It's no joke," he said simply, "Chichi told you about the party Vegeta last attended, didn't she?" Bulma nodded, swallowing hard. "And she told you about the pushups he did, right?" Bulma nodded again. "We can also do this," he added, letting out a low grunt. In a brilliant flash of light, Goku's hair turned bright gold and he was surrounded by a golden aura. He placed her bed down and his hair and body returned to normal. He smirked at her. Suddenly, Bulma realized that Yamcha hadn't been drunk at that party. "Well, I hope what you just saw explains everything a little better. Saiyans have a lot more power than humans, and when we go Super Saiyan, the gold you just saw, we increase our power tenfold. We're a warrior species, Bulma. We're born ready and willing to fight."

"What does all this have to do with your mission?" she asked, still getting over the initial shock of learning that there were actually other people on other planets. And even worse, they were on Earth and they were dangerous.

"Because of our ability to fight, and the fact that we are a warrior species, we tend to do some bad things. Not Vegeta and I in general, but our population as a whole. We plunder different planets around the universe. We also sell these planets for profit. That's how our planet survives. We work for three people who tell us which planets to sell."

"And the mission?" Bulma pressed.

"Unfortunately, before we can sell a planet, we have to purge the land of its dominant inhabitants. In Earth's case, that means that the humans have to go."

"What?!" She was beginning to get nervous again and she managed to calm herself down a bit before she made a fool out of herself. Goku wasn't going to hurt her. She knew that.

"Vegeta and I were first assigned to this planet three years ago. And right before we were about to get rid of the humans who live here…," He blushed a bit. "Well, I met Chichi. And I knew I wouldn't be able to destroy the humans because she was part of them. So, of course, Vegeta had different plans, and tried to destroy them anyway. I managed to restrain him for a few days before we sat down and talked about it. Trust me. It was more of a surprise than you think. Vegeta would rather act than talk about anything." He laughed before continuing. "But I managed to convince him that we couldn't kill these people, which was even more of a surprise, if you think about it. He and I both knew that we'd be checked on, but our bosses haven't even called to check up on us in the past three years. I knew it sometimes took our species a long time to purge a planet of its dominant species, but I never knew that they would allow it to go on for this long. Vegeta only agreed with me because I'm stronger than him, and could stop him if I needed to. He also firmly believed that the humans would have to be destroyed eventually, so we enrolled in high school and took our time here as an extended vacation." He looked down at his feet. "I'm so sorry you got involved in this, Bulma, but I believe that the reason Vegeta said he wants you dead is because he now has a reason not to destroy the humans. A reason like Chichi is to me. A reason to keep the inhabitants of this planet alive at all costs.… And that's you."

Bulma was speechless. She didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say?

"But then why would he be so mean to me like he was?" That sounded good, so she decided to just go with it.

"The main reason Vegeta stayed here for three years was because he believed that we would someday complete our mission. It was the only thing keeping him going. I might be wrong, but I think he's afraid of what could happen. It seems like it's inevitable now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our three bosses take their work and their profit _very_ seriously. If they knew that we never planned to complete our assignment, then they would send another group to do it for us. I'm prepared to give my life for Chichi, along with everyone else on Earth. And I think it bothers Vegeta because he knows, deep, deep, _deep_ down, that he'll do the same for you." he said, trying to make light of the situation.

"So why do you think he's afraid?" Bulma asked warily. This was all so much to take in at once.

"Because, to protect the Earthlings, we would have to attack and possibly kill whoever was sent to complete our unfinished mission. That's treason, Bulma. We would be hunted down and killed for something like that. And there's no doubt in my mind, and Vegeta's, that our bosses could have us dead whenever they wanted. They are far more powerful than we are, and we're painfully aware of it."

"Why don't you just take Chichi away with you?" she asked, trying not to fear the answer. She was relieved that it wasn't what she had been expecting.

"I don't want to kill these people, Bulma. I'm not a fool. I _know_ it isn't right. I've purged planets before, and I've hated it. It's the worst thing I've ever done. And after I met Chichi, I swore to myself that I'd never do it again. I'll die before I kill someone for someone else's gain or profit. It isn't right. It's disastrous, and I'm ashamed that I ever took part in it."

"Alright, alright," Chichi interrupted, seeing as Goku was having a bit of an emotional crisis in the middle of Bulma's bedroom. "Bulma, you're coming with us to my house. You can help with the cooking and decorations. And try not to squeal about the alcohol, okay?" she smiled.

"Sure…?"

"And I'm going to make sure Vegeta's there, too," Goku said. Bulma fidgeted a bit on her bed. The silk sheets ruffled under her. "And I'm going to see if I can talk to him. I'll let him know that you're part of our secret… And Bulma, we'd like to keep it that way, alright?"

She pretended to lock her lips and throw the key over her shoulder.

"Maybe I can get him to act civilized around you if you like?" he asked, winking at her.

"He just confessed his undying _hate_ for me, Goku. I think it might take a while for me to get over that, even if it wasn't true."

"I understand. But maybe I can get him to apologize. It's a start."

"Yeah, right," Chichi mumbled, and Goku just chuckled.

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"Here we are," Chichi said, waving out a hand as they stepped out of Bulma's car, seeing as Goku and Chichi had flown to Bulma's house without a vehicle to assist them. It was easier this way as well, because then Bulma knew she could just leave when the party was over, instead of waiting for someone else to drive her home and being a huge burden. Plus, she preferred driving herself home if there was going to be alcohol at the party. "The party's in three hours, so we have enough time to finish up dessert and put up the decorations. We already made dinner and began making dessert before you called me. Goku's pretty speedy with the decorations, so we don't need to worry about the time there. I hired a DJ, so the music's taken care of. What else?" she asked herself, rubbing her temples, "Oh, Goku, remember to put up the disco ball and plug it in. But don't turn it on until later, when it's dark out. The snacks are taken care of. The bowls are in the kitchen and I am the perfect host when it comes to keeping the snack bowls full to the top at all times. Although, it's harder than it looks, believe me."

Then, Bulma noticed a banner on the front of the house. She read it aloud as the imminent question in her mind. ""Welcome to Party Planet"?"

"It's our inside joke," Chichi said happily, pointing her thumb at Goku and a dead light bulb in Bulma's head flickered for a moment.

"That's kind of… um, lame," she said. Chichi just giggled and rolled her eyes, walking towards the front door of her house.

"I told her that when she bought it, but she didn't listen to me either," Gou said to her, smiling.

Bulma watched as he followed after her, and realized the full extent of everything he had told her back at her house. Goku was risking his life for Chichi every second he was with her. That meant that he must really love her, to do something like that. It was incredible. It was so admirable. Bulma felt proud to be their friend.

Then she thought about Vegeta. She had to admit, she didn't believe what Goku had said about him telling her that he was going to kill her because he cared about her. Only a psychopath would do something like that. She had the strange feeling that there was something about Vegeta, something that he had done, that Goku didn't know about. There was more to Vegeta than Goku said, and she wondered if he actually knew about it, since he seemed to know about everything else. Maybe there was something, a secret that only Vegeta knew. And that was what she believed. Not that he threatened her because he wanted to protect her. That was stupid and absurd, and she knew it. She wasn't that blind.

She did have to admit that she was still frightened of him. A part of her didn't want Goku to talk to him. A part of her didn't want him to come to the party. She wished that she could just go tell Goku to leave him alone if he was so sure that Vegeta wasn't going to kill her. Then she could forget all about this and go back to her life…

But she didn't want to go back. As much as she was afraid of him, she wanted to see Vegeta again. She didn't want to go back because then she wouldn't get to talk to him ever again. She wouldn't be able to see his face. She didn't know why, but that seemed more important to her than life itself. He was like a magnet, and she was the biggest, most vulnerable piece of metal on the entire planet. She was attracted to him like a starving animal is attracted to a piece of meat. It was enticing. _He_ was enticing. And she reveled in it…

"Over here, Bulma," Chichi called, waiting in the open doorway of her home. "Come on. You have to help me with dessert. I'm not letting you stay here for nothing," she joked.

"Coming, Chichi," Bulma replied, as if imitating a tone that a child would use with their mother when instructed to clean a bathroom, including the toilet.

Bulma half-ran to the awaiting open door and nodded her thanks to Chichi for holding it open for her. Chichi just smiled back and Bulma felt like she finally understood why the raven-haired girl had to keep the secrets to herself back in school. It wasn't her secret to tell, and Bulma felt a little bad about pushing her so much for more and more information every time she saw her. She _had_ been a bit of an annoyance, and she mentally apologized, not really in the mood to say it aloud for fear that it might ruin the occasion.

"Do you like pecan pie?"

"What?" Bulma asked, mentally apologizing for not paying attention while she was mentally apologizing for annoying her back at school. She figured she'd have to mentally apologize for everything else later at this rate.

"I asked if you like pecan pie."

"Sure. I never had it fresh, but I love to nuke the small, manufactured ones in the microwave. I know I like those."

"Well, if you like store-bought, you're going to _love_ homemade. Everything tastes better when it's homemade. Oh, do you like cream pies, too?"

"I don't know. What's that?"

"You've never had a cream pie?" Chichi asked in shock, "Well, then I'll just have to show you how to make one."

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The wait for the party was fun, but slow. Bulma only felt like a burden, as if Goku and Chichi were babysitting her because of Vegeta's threat on her life. It felt a bit awkward, but it was fun nonetheless. She learned how to cook multiple types of pies and made instant Jell-O, which she didn't even know existed until Chichi showed her. She also helped Goku put up some streamers. After a bit of an accident on her part, and looking like a rainbow colored mummy, she was sent back to Chichi for more cooking. Goku hadn't been mean about it at all, but Bulma knew when she was helping. And she knew when she was just getting in the way. It was fine with her, though. She was never a big fan of heights anyway especially on a rickety ladder like the one Goku made her use. It did feel strange, watching him fly up to the ceiling and place the streamers and balloons and banners where they belonged in a goodly amount of time. It didn't bother her when she watched him lift each couch up and pile them on top of each other as he vacuumed the entire room's carpet, and then put the couches back in their rightful places without a single noise. It was as if they were feathers to him. It was a complete mockery of the human race and everything that they do to make themselves seem more and more powerful than they were a couple seconds ago. Goku didn't even have to try. He was just _born_ better than everyone on Earth. It was kind of humbling to her.

Bulma sighed as the first guest arrived at the door and the sound of the doorbell rang around the house. It was much nicer than the piercing school bell in Bulma's point of view. It had a delicate and pleasant chime sound to it, while the school's bell just hurt her ears.

She didn't know why she sighed. She guessed that it was because she had secretly been dreading the party ever since Goku informed her that he was forcing Vegeta to come just for the sole purpose of proving to Bulma that he didn't intend on killing her. She knew she wanted to see him, but after what he did, it was no surprise that she was deathly afraid as well. If there was even a tiny, miniscule chance that Goku was wrong, her life could be in jeopardy if he came.

What if Goku was wrong? What if Vegeta knew this would happen and was planning to kill her here? What if he planned on Goku leaving them alone so he could apologize, and then he attacked her when they were gone? When there was no one left to help her get away. It didn't seem too difficult to gain Goku's trust. Maybe Vegeta planned to use that to his advantage. Bulma stopped thinking about it when she realized that her legs were trembling. She silently wondered if it was possible to have your knee caps shake so much that they popped out. She knew it was impossible, but at least it got her mind off of Vegeta.

"Hey guys," 17 said, walking into the house, "We're… punctual," he added, looking around at the empty house. 18 grumbled and rolled her eyes.

"I told you we should have waited, you idiot. Now we look like party crashers."

"Don't worry," Chichi said, "You're actually a bit late. Every party host knows that you give everyone a time that's a half hour earlier than you actually want them here. Well, every _good_ party host at least," she added, curtsying in front of them.

"Yeah, yeah," 18 snarled, "At least we're considered _punctual_. Instead of _moronic_." She stuck out her tongue at her brother, mocking his earlier statement.

"Oh. Hey Bulma," 17 said, waving to her, "I didn't see you there."

"Oh, no. not this again," 18 said, "Of course you saw her, idiot. It was the first thing you noticed when we walked into this damn house. And don't even deny it because I saw you. So stop bothering the poor girl. She doesn't like you, and she never will."

"I don't know what you're talking about, 18, "17 said forcefully, folding his arms, but everyone just laughed when his cheeks turned a dark shade of pink directly after that. "What?!" he said, nearly crying, and everyone just laughed harder.

And for a moment, Bulma actually forgot all about Vegeta.


	10. Party Night part 1

**Chapter Nine: Party Night pt. 1**

Bulma paced around in the kitchen, waiting for more instructions from Chichi. For the past few minutes, she had been helping her raven-haired friend with the snacks for the party guests. A few more groups of people had arrived, but Bulma didn't know any of them except for 17 and 18. Chichi had told her that when she made parties for a selected group of people in a high school, it usually meant that the entire school was invited. Bulma didn't understand that at all, but she had decided to just go with it after a while.

Chichi came back into the kitchen and placed an empty chip bowl down on the counter. Then, she looked up at Bulma, a firm scowl placed fiercely on her face. Bulma didn't think it looked comfortable at all.

"Bulma, you do know that this is a party, correct?" she asked, and Bulma's face turned pink. Oh, no. What had she done wrong this time? "You look completely atrocious! How dare you come to my party in jeans and sneakers. My floors aren't like the gym floors in the school, sweetheart. It isn't against the law to wear nice shoes in my house. And what's with the t-shirt? You don't have any nice dress shirts in your closet?"

Bulma looked down at herself, and then back up at Chichi. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked warily, not understanding Chichi's point. She had been to plenty of parties with her parents… Well, not with people her age. She embarrassedly thought of the bingo parties she had been to and the one baby shower in Australia. There had been her birthday parties, but that had only been with her and her parents. She traveled around so much, that no one was really invited to any of her birthday parties. And they weren't exactly parties. It was more like dinner, then cake, and then presents… And then she went to bed. Nothing else to it. She had never been to something like this except for when her father had been working on a project for Smiles. And that had been when she was very young. She couldn't stay home alone, so she had been dragged through a four hour ride to a pub filled with big, burly men that had stared at her in odd ways that she hadn't been able to understand. She distinctly remembered entering the dimly lit bar. That was the only time in her life that she had ever even seen a disco ball, shooting all its magnificent colors around the room. She remembered the giant sign that said "Hot Women Cold Beer Free Food. You Drink, We Drive." She hadn't understood what it meant before, but she had when she grew older.

"Come with me, Bulma. There's no way in hell I'm letting you show yourself to my party guests with that outfit on." And that was it. There were no questions asked as Chichi shoved Bulma towards the stairs and up to her bedroom. "Here," she said, pointing to her closet. She pulled out a dark lavender dress. There was nothing special about it, but it was far from simple. It was one solid color all around, and there were no straps to hold it up. Bulma gulped.

"What is it?" she squeaked, knowing that it was a stupid question to ask.

"It's your escape, honey," Chichi replied, as if it was the most obviously expected answer in the entire world. "This is what you're going to wear. And trust me, you won't stand out too much. Everyone is going to be dressed in something like this. Only the boys are going to be wearing jeans and sneakers. But that's only because boys are the natural disasters of the word fashion. They have no style, but I'm here to make sure you're not like that. Just think of me as your guardian angel, sweetheart. I'm here for you when you fashion sense goes down the toilet." She paused, looking Bulma up and down. "Or if you just don't have one altogether."

"Hey, I don't—"

"Shh!" Bulma was silenced with a finger to her lips. "Come here," Chichi said, bending down next to a wooden vanity with a mirror that nearly touched the ceiling of Chichi's bedroom. "Take this, and this, and this. Oh, don't forget this." She handed the confused aqua-haired teen two bottles and one can. "Here are your instructions," she began, sitting down on her bed. Bulma felt like she was talking to a psychologist about her clothing problems. "The bottles are your shampoo and conditioner. They're from Garnier Fructis, so don't waste any, please. We can't all be rich like you. What you do is make sure your hair is soaked. And I don't mean just a little wet. I mean _drenched_."

"Wait," Bulma said, putting a hand in the air, "Are you giving me instructions on how to take a _shower_? What am I, three years old?"

"Darling, there is a dramatic difference between taking your usual shower and taking a shower in preparation for a party. Didn't your mother ever teach you things like this?" she asked, reprimanding, as if she was about to punish Bulma's mother. "So, as I was saying, this stuff is expensive, so don't go using a bunch of it for no good reason."

"I got that part," Bulma said, not sure if she should be going along with this.

"You wash with the shampoo once, first. Then with the conditioner. They have ginseng in them, so your hair will get a sort of body boost to it. Don't get me wrong, it's not like you need it, but it'll still help you out in the long run. After you're done with the first wave, then you do it again. Use the shampoo for a second time. It helps to get rid of the oils if you do it twice. And the end result is worth the trouble, let me tell you. I would know." She pointed to the can next. "Then you have to shave."

Bulma looked over the can, flipping it over a couple times to get the gist of it.

"It's shaving cream from Skintimate. This, you can use as much as you like. Lather it on, girl. This specific company makes your legs _glow_. And when I say glow, I mean luster and shine like there's no tomorrow. This stuff is amazing. And believe it or not, it was Goku who found it for me. He's definitely useful when it comes to picking out things that are healthy and things that really work. He can literally feel what's inside these products, and he'll pick the best ones for me. He's such a sweetheart, isn't he?"

Bulma wanted to tell Chichi to wipe the sparkles from her eyes and get on with it, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Yeah, well, the reason for the shaving stuff is because the dress is high cut. It's not slutty or anything bad like that, but it tends to show of your legs… Oh, and I almost forgot." She jumped off the bed and ran back to the vanity. "This and this." She pulled out a package with a pink razor in it and another bottle. It was orange.

"What is it?" Bulma asked cautiously, feeling as if she was running headfirst into a brick wall by asking the dreaded question.

"It's just a body wash. It's nothing really special, but you'll smell good for hours after you shower. That's what I like most about this. It's from Softsoap, and the scent is sweet honeysuckle and orange peel. Guys tend to melt over this scent. Goku said so, so I guess he's the most reliable when it comes to guy stuff. Vegeta would never help me out like Goku does, so he's technically useless."

Bulma's eyes got a bit wider for a split second at the mention of Vegeta's name, and Chichi noticed. Bulma cursed under her breath when a smirk crossed Chichi's face.

"But don't worry. Goku said Vegeta likes it, too. In fact, he loves it, if Goku wasn't lying. So he'll melt over you. Just like everybody else."

"I didn't mean—"

"Shush! My lips are sealed. And… as for the razor, it's not used, so you can keep it. They're sort of expensive, but I got a bunch as a gift, so I've got plenty more." Chichi walked out of her room and Bulma followed her down the hallway and into the bathroom. It was nowhere near as large as hers, but it was nice. It felt like home. It felt like a hotel's bathroom, which was technically home to her, considering all the travelling she used to do. "The hot water takes a little while to get through the pipes. Sorry about that. Your turn it up and right for warm water and up and left for cold. I know it's backwards. My bathroom's all screwed up, and it bothers the heck out of me, too. And make sure you do everything I told you, alright?" Bulma nodded. "I'll be back up here in twenty five minutes. You should be done by then."

"Okay… I guess…"

"See you in twenty-five," she said, waving as she left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Bulma was left alone with her many confused thoughts. It was humid for twilight's time, so the shower looked extremely inviting to her. She felt like taking a cold shower instead of a usual warm one. She didn't think she could handle a hot shower at that moment. She was already burning up from embarrassment. Chichi had a way with words. That was all she could come up with to explain what she had just been through.

Chichi was a new and seemingly improved friend. Bulma had never been friends with anyone her own age before. She had never been friends with someone who held the same interests and feelings as her. Showers were never a topic when she talked with artsy people that her mother worked for or the other artsy people that worked for her father. It was always what to paint next, or sculpt or sketch or the next job or assignment. Sometimes it seemed like her parents cared more about their work than their own daughter.

Bulma undressed and turned the water on cold. She looked over at the things Chichi had given her and ran over the instructions in her head. At first, this seemed like the craziest thing she had ever been asked to do. But now that she was here and thinking about where she could have been if she had never met Chichi and Goku and Vegeta on that first day of high school, she knew that this was fun. Sure, it was crazy, but it was as if she was finally living her life the way she wanted to, instead of the way her parents wanted her to. They had a vision for her, but they never actually stopped to ask what she wanted. And this moment felt like she was finally given that choice. She had friends and she even had enemies, and it felt wonderful. She had never felt so alive in all her life.

She grabbed the bottles, cans and the razor, and stepped into the shower. A small rack was hung from the spout, so she placed the things she was given in there. She only had a little more than twenty minutes remaining, so she shoved her head under the soft stream of water and rubbed her hands through it until it was drenched. Then, she reached for the shampoo bottle and started to mentally go over Chichi's instructions.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"Don't worry about a thing, Bulma," Chichi said, watching the aqua-haired girl pull at all the parts of the dark lavender dress around her waist. "It fits your form perfectly. In fact, I think it looks better on you than on me. And that's saying something because it's _my_ dress."

"Don't you think I look silly with this on? I've never worn anything like this before. It feels comfortable, but I think it doesn't look like me at all." She tugged on her ponytail. "And why do I have to wear my hair like this?" she whined.

"I just blow-dried your hair, Bulma. So, if you put it in a ponytail or bun like that, then you take it out when you go downstairs. Trust me, okay. Haven't you ever seen those movies with the girls entering the party in slow motion? Having your hair like that gives you that effect." She sighed. "Just relax, okay. You look great." She paused, letting a smirk creep its way up her face until it filled her expression. "But I'm not done with you just yet, Bulma Briefs. We still need jewelry and makeup. Not a lot of makeup, though. Maybe just a little something for your eyes. And that dress really does bring out the best of you. Especially your legs."

Bulma's face went red as she looked down at herself.

"Oh, stop being so modest, girl. You have a body that most of the girls in Orange Star High would die for. Not to mention the boys. They would probably die for a girl with your body, too."

Bulma's face went even redder than before. "Chichi, don't you think that's a little ridiculous? I mean, I'm not like a model or anything. It's not like I'm anything special."

"I just told you to stop being so modest. I think you need to learn that you're pretty. No, you're _gorgeous_. Even with just those flimsy rags that you had on before, you looked like a star. Even I was a bit jealous then. But now look at you. You're certainly a model if I've ever seen one."

"Chichi, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking!" she laughed.

Bulma looked down at herself once more before a pair of silver shoes were thrown in her face. "What are these for? We're inside a house."

"Well, when you're at a party with music and dancing, it's okay to wear shoes indoors. And plus, what's the point in wearing such a pretty dress if you don't have shoes to go with it. You don't have any nail polish on, but I this you'll be fine without it. Although blue would look nice. A light blue…"

Chichi trailed off, looking around her bedroom for something else to torture Bulma with putting on or wearing. Bulma sighed and sat down on the bed, adjusting the straps of the three inch-heeled shoes. She slid them onto her feet and silently thanked her mother for the high-heel lessons when she was younger. Three inches was a lot to take without any practice beforehand. That was for sure. And they were extremely comfortable. She wondered if there was some secret place that the shoes would be killing her feet later on into the night.

"Hey, Chichi?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, her raven-haired head sticking into her closet. She looked like the headless wonder like that, Bulma deduced.

"Who's here already, apart from who I saw? I mean, wasn't the party supposed to start about a half an hour ago?"

"Sweetheart, you've been up here the entire time. The entire bottom floor of the house is packed with people."

Bulma stood up and wobbled for only a moment before regaining her balance. Maybe she wouldn't remember those lessons from when she was younger. She hadn't worn heels like these in over a year. "Really? I wasn't even up here for that long… Is anyone I know here yet?"

"No, Bulma, Vegeta isn't here yet."

"I never said—"

"Don't worry, darling. Goku's making sure that he comes. And when Goku sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him. Even Vegeta knows that… And apart from him, Tien and Launch came together, and so did Krillin, but you haven't met him yet. I'd be careful what you say around him, though. He's the complete opposite of self-conscious, but the one thing that will make him blush is 18. Everyone but her notices when he's around her. He has some weird crush on Maron, too, but I know he likes 18 a hell of a lot better. She's much more intelligent and she prettier, too. He's a loser for liking Maron, but I think he'd go perfectly with 18. What do you think?"

"I don't know… Like you said. I've never even met him before."

"Right. Well, then I guess I'll just have to introduce you when we get downstairs. Goku's handling the snacks, but if I know Goku, they'll be gone before he puts the bowl back down. He's going to need my help in a little while."

"I thought he was with Vegeta…?"

"Not now, no. He talked with him before, and he's going to go check on him later if he doesn't come within the next hour or so. But don't worry. I know he'll come."

"Does he know that I know about… the different species thing?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. Why?"

"Because my thoughts keep going back to one time when I was with him…"

"What are you talking about?"

"The second day of school, right after lunch started, when we got our detention assignments. Do you remember?"

"When Vegeta went missing for a little while?"

"Yeah, that's it. Well, we were walking down the hallway and Maron told him that she was going to tell me his secret, which I think is what you and Goku told me. But he told her something that I didn't quite catch, and I think he made some kind of deal with her so I wouldn't find out about him."

"What's your point? Vegeta does stupid stuff all the time."

"Well… I don't know exactly. I just have the feeling that he still has to do something… for her… But I already know about him, so he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. I just think he should know that before he…"

"Bulma, is something wrong?"

"I think he's going to… Chichi, do you think I could call him or something?"

"What? Bulma, why in the world would you want to do something like that? The last time you talked with Vegeta, you ended up calling me because you thought he was coming to kill you. Maybe you should just wait until he gets here."

"I don't know, Chichi. Is Maron here yet?"

"I didn't invite her, but she's probably coming… But no, she isn't. Why?"

"What if she's with Ve—"

"Bulma Briefs! Have you been paying any attention at all for the past week? Vegeta hates Maron's guts. He wouldn't _willingly_ spend his time with her, even if his life was on the line! And if you think Maron could ever force him to do something against his will, then you're absolutely, positively insane, girl!"

"But…" Bulma looked down at her feet. At the shiny, silver shoes she was wearing.

"Don't worry about Vegeta. He's the second strongest thing on this planet."

"Second?" she asked, looking up curiously.

"To my man, Goku, of course," she smiled. "Now, stop being so paranoid. Vegeta can handle himself. And he can most certainly handle a bitchy dimwit like Maron. We still have work to do, remember? So, since you aren't wearing nail polish, the shoes will be the more showy thing on your feet. I think you should go light on the jewelry. No anklets. Maybe studded earrings. Your ears are pierced, right?"

Bulma nodded her response.

"Good. Silver will match the shoes, so here. Put these on," she said, handing her a black velvet box. "And this will match everything just fine. It's silver to match the shoes and an amethyst gemstone to go with the lavender of the dress. Everything looks in order, doesn't it?"

"I don't know. You're the expert here, Chichi. I have no idea what you're doing," she said thankfully, the earrings in place. She took the amethyst necklace and clipped it with both hands behind her neck.

"Thanks for your trust in me, but I'm no expert. Just be thankful I'm not making you look like a birthday clown."

Bulma giggled.

"All we need now is makeup and you can go show off to everyone. Just make sure you avoid 17. He's such a pervert and he's not the person to be around if you're the hottest girl at a party."

"Don't go overboard, please, Chichi. I don't think I could handle much more of you saying that. If I was really that great, don't you think that someone would have told me already?"

"Not in the world you used to live in, sweetheart. But here, you're like a princess." She paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Bulma asked warily.

"Goku forgot to tell you, but Vegeta is actually _Prince_ Vegeta."

"Excuse me?" she guffawed, feeling like one of those cartoon characters that stuck their finger three inches into their ear when they didn't believe what they were hearing.

"Goku and Vegeta's planet is called Planet Vegeta. And Vegeta is the prince. Someday, he'll rule the entire species. I just thought it was funny how I didn't notice that I just called you a princess. Hilarious, am I right?" she said, laughing once more.

"Yeah, hilarious," Bulma replied, no emotion in her voice as the thought of _Prince_ Vegeta crossed her mind over and over again, nonstop. She always thought he looked like royalty, but to find out that it wasn't even a joke was a bit much to take in without a warning of some kind.

"Put this on," she said, handing her a bottle of mascara, "And I think you'll be fine… Oh, lip gloss would be nice, too. The mirror's over there," she pointed, going back to her closet to dive in, headfirst. Bulma turned to the tiny mirror that Chichi had pointed to and applied the mascara. She didn't want it too dark, so she just used one coat and turned back around to find a pink, square glass tube being held out to her.

"It's lips gloss, and it's also lip inflation. Not that you need it, but the color's nice, and there's really a chemical that make your lips look juicer… Vegeta will love it," she added.

"Chichi! Enough with Vegeta already!"

"Sorry, sorry. I don't mean to get into your business."

"Vegeta isn't my business, Chichi. But really, give it a rest, okay. Please?"

"All right, all right. Sorry, but you two would go great together, if I may throw my opinion out there."

"Don't get your hopes up," she replied, swiping the small brush of pink lip gloss over her bottom lip. "Here," she said, handing it back to the raven-haired girl.

"Now, Bulma. It's time to go show everyone who the real party girl is around here."

"Who's that?"

"Very funny, but it's not getting you out of anything, I see you sneaking towards the door, and I'm not letting you leave until everyone else is gone, you understand?" Bulma nodded and failed at her attempt to not gulp too loud. "It's not that bad, Bulma, really. You look like an angel sent from heaven, in complete honesty. And you're going to rock this house. Let's get this party started, 'kay?!"

Bulma nodded and sighed at her fiend's enthusiasm and let her pull her by the arm down the stairs.

"This is it, Bulma," she said excitedly, reaching the platform of the stairs. "One more step until you're in full view of the living room and everyone in it. You ready?"

Bulma just nodded. It wasn't as if everything was going to be put on pause. She had seen the types of movies where the popular girls entered the room and everyone stared, but she wasn't popular. She was the new girl that everyone in movies made fun of and laughed at because she didn't know how to act at a party. This was going to be like she expected. She would walk down these last few steps with her eyes on the wooden floor below her, and when she looked up, no one will have noticed her. Things like slow-motion entrances and parties being put on halt for a guest only happened on television and in movies. It wasn't like it could ever happen to her. She was just two artsy people's daughter, moving into a new school.

She felt herself rounding the corner, her eyes on the wooden floor, as planned. When she reached the bottom step she slowly looked up to find that she was dead-on. Everyone around her was minding their own business and no one even glanced her way. It was exactly as she knew it would be. She was nobody special. She was just like every other teenager who didn't really belong here. She was just another member of the crowd.

"Bulma," Chichi whispered, "Take down your hair."

"What?" she whispered back.

"Your ponytail. Let your hair out. Now would be the time to do it. And make sure you swish your hair around, okay?"

Bulma rolled her eyes and reached for the hair tie behind her head. But as she pulled it out, everything really did seem to happen in slow motion. She knew the form standing behind the swiftly opening door. It was him, and _he_ was the one moving in slow-motion, not her. But then her world slowed down dramatically as she saw another form in the doorway. Underneath one of Vegeta's muscular arms was the shoulder-line of Maron. She was cuddled up against his shoulder and chest while his face nuzzled her elegant tresses as they entered the house.

And even as Vegeta turned to watch Bulma swish out her hair, everything was still moving in slow motion. It was obvious that he had seen the agonizing and miserable look on her face before her beautiful wavy hair fell over her left shoulder in one gallant swoop and she turned and ran back up the stairs. But not before she saw the triumphant look that gleamed over Maron's face. It had been directed at her.

Then, everything returned to normal speed once again. Bulma could hear Chichi calling her back as she cupped her hands over her face and felt the tears flow. Why had she expected anything less from him? It wasn't as if he actually cared about her. He wanted her gone. Maybe not dead anymore, but certainly out of his sight distance. But why Maron? Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Maron?

It was miserably obvious. Her living Hell had begun.


	11. Party Night part 2

**Chapter Ten: Party Night pt. 2**

Chichi called after Bulma, but it was no use. She was already locking herself inside the bedroom, probably not to come out until the party was over. She turned back to Vegeta with fire in her eyes. How could he do something like that? Especially with Maron! After all the times he cursed her life and complained to Goku about her insanity and how he wished she would just leave him alone. What in the world could have persuaded him to be with her? Escort her to a party. Have his arm around her shoulders and his head resting calmly in her hair.

She knew the answer to that question, but it was sick, so she didn't want to dwell on it. She felt horrible about telling Bulma to stop worrying about Vegeta, but the fact was that her fears had been dead on. He was with Maron. Chichi just hoped that it wasn't in more ways than one.

She had about enough thinking by the time Vegeta was in reprimanding-range. She stormed over to him, her fist shaking in the air over her head.

"Vegeta Ouji! What in the world do you think you're doing! Have you any idea what you've just done?! And I never invited that slutbag! So, why'd you bring her here?!"

"Excuse me?!" Maron guffawed, wrapping a delicate hand around Vegeta waist and pulling him to her. Chichi was shocked when he didn't push her away or resist.

"Vegeta… What are you doing?" she asked again, but her voice had lost all its fire. Now, it sounded more like she was pleading with him to go back to being normal, because, as far as she was concerned, this was not normal. This wasn't Vegeta at all.

"What does it look like I'm doing, _raven_?" he asked droopily and Chichi finally saw it in his eyes. He wasn't normal at all… He was completely wasted! She didn't know how much alcohol he must have consumed this time, but she knew for sure that it was more than enough to kill a human. Luckily, he wasn't one. "I was _invited_ here… So I _came_."

Maron held tightly to his waist and Chichi noticed that it wasn't just for fun and entertainment. It was also to hold him upright. He looked like he was about to fall flat on his back and pass out. And he was holding onto Maron because he knew his equilibrium was _way_ off, as well.

"Vegeta…" Chichi didn't know what to say, so instead, she turned to Maron. "What happened?" she asked accusingly, and Maron knew very well that Chichi meant 'what did _you_ do to him.'

"He just drank too much. What does it look like?"

"You better not have done anything to him, or I swear, bitch, you'll pay dearly."

"I didn't _do_ anything. In fact, we made a bit of a deal. So he was the one who came to me a couple hours ago. And I assure you, I didn't do anything to him that he didn't ask for, _raven_!" Chichi's face went red. Everyone knew that Vegeta was the only one who called her by that name. Maron probably just stole it from when she just heard it a few moments ago.

"Where's Ka… Kakarot?" Vegeta asked, but not before he hit the ground. Maron's arm had slipped and he lost his balance.

"Vegeta!" Chichi called, bending down next to him. Goku was at her side in the next moment and Chichi looked up to find that the music had stopped playing and all eyes were on Vegeta and the rest of them, Chichi, Maron and Goku. She wished they would just go back to whatever they were doing, but she knew that wasn't going to happen unless she kicked them all out. She could feel her body heat rising at everyone's eyes burning into her back. They were all staring and it certainly bothered her. She knew that when it came to Vegeta being drunk, memories would be flowing into the watching crowd like a tidal wave, and now they would want more gossip to spread around to the people who weren't coming to the party and even family members. It would be a disaster if Vegeta did anything at that moment. She guessed that was the reason why Goku had come so quickly when he realized what was going on. If there was anyone who could stop Vegeta from doing anything, it was most definitely Goku.

"Don't tell me he's drunk again," Goku said heatedly. They all knew that a drunk Vegeta was even less fun than a sober Vegeta.

"Don't look at _me_ ," Maron said, her hands in the air as if they were pointing a gun at her chest in warning. Goku glared at her anyway. Chichi did the same. The crowd watched on.

"I saw… a seraph," Vegeta muttered drunkenly, his mouth on the floor.

"A what?" Goku asked, and Chichi couldn't help but smirk a bit. She knew exactly what Vegeta meant. And she knew that it was no seraph that he had seen.

"Bring him upstairs," she told Goku, a plan forming in her mind, "To my bedroom. Okay?" A few whispers rippled through the crowd when they heard that Chichi wanted Goku to put the hottest boy in Orange Star High in her bedroom. A couple whistles were heard, as well as a few inappropriate chants. Goku rolled his eyes and just nodded at his girlfriend, picking Vegeta up off the floor and placing him over his shoulder. Vegeta whined and moaned about something, but it was inaudible, so Chichi decided that it wasn't important enough to figure out.

"Wait!" Maron called, "I'll come, too. My Vegeta needs me!"

"He needs you as much as he needs a bullet through his head," Chichi growled, pulling her back by the forearm. Maron shoved Chichi away and a group of boys called out, "Catfight!" and before she knew it, Chichi was thrown to the floor as people all around gathered and watched.

Goku turned as he reached the platform of the stairs and dropped Vegeta to the floor. He heard a growl emanate from the other Saiyans mouth, but Vegeta could handle a tiny fall like that, so he had no worries. He then ran to Chichi's side and lifted Maron up by around the waist until her feet lifted off the floor. Then he walked to the door and placed her down outside, on the porch step.

"We had a deal! Vegeta promised! I'll tell her everything! He promised!—"

"I think that doesn't matter anymore," he calmly replied, and then slammed the door in the aquamarine's face, enjoying her expression before the loud noise of her screams reached his ears.

Goku walked back over to Chichi to help her up, but she was already standing.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she said, smiling up at him and brushing herself off. People had started going back to their business when they realized that the entertainment was over.

"Hey!—" Goku yelled, watching a group of girls prodding at Vegeta on the platform of the stairs. "Cut that out!" He ran over to them and lifted Vegeta back over his shoulder as the girls whimpered and stalked away. Some even left the party because of it. Chichi called to him that she'd handle the hosting for a few minutes while he worked things out upstairs. Goku nodded, even though he didn't know exactly what she had meant. But he soon realized the intended message when he reached the bedroom door to find that it was locked, and a small energy signal inside was crying. He identified the signal as Bulma and wished that he didn't have to get involved. But nonetheless, he knocked on the door anyway until it opened a crack.

"What do you want?" she asked sadly, poking her head out to see who had interrupted her. She opened the door when she noticed Goku, but when he stepped inside, she jumped, noticing Vegeta as well. "What happened to him?" she asked, wiping away her tears with her forearm and pretending not to care. Goku sighed and placed him on the bed. His eyes were closed, but Goku didn't think he was asleep; just tired and resting his eyes.

"Maron came in with him like this. He's really drunk. She said something about a deal with him for not telling you about us. But I don't think that Vegeta has to worry about that deal anymore. Maron is a hard person to strike a bargain with. If she ever tries to make a deal with you, turn tail and run because she really doesn't do anything for you. All she wants is something in return for nothing."

Bulma just nodded, knowing that her deal with Maron had already been broken. She stared unemotionally at Vegeta, but she knew that some emotions were trying to break free of her hold on them. She wasn't sure which ones, but she knew that if she didn't hold them in, they would burst out like a popped balloon.

"I couldn't help but notice that what got you upset was seeing Vegeta with Maron."

"I'm not upset," she said defiantly, but looked down when a betraying tear fell from her right eyes.

"After you left, we found out that it really had nothing to do with that. Believe it or not, Vegeta is a man that never goes back on his word. If he promises something, you know damn well that he's going to do whatever he told you. Unfortunately, he made a promise to Maron that, like always, he couldn't go back on. She said that he came to her, which means that she made him do something. I don't know what that was, but I can assure you that it's over and done with. And he still hates Maron's guts." He smiled.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Bulma asked angrily. "Because it doesn't. I saw him with his hands on her and his head in her hair. That was no promise. He was actually _enjoying_ it!"

"He's drunk, Bulma. He was holding onto her because he was about to pass out. And obviously, he did," he said, pointing to the pathetic figure on the bed. An irritated noise came from him and Goku let out a detached laugh. "Well, I guess he's not totally out, then."

"I don't believe you. He was with Maron. That's all that matters."

"The proof for him being drunk is right in front of your eyes, Bulma. And I just told you why he was hanging on Maron like that. He could barely stand! And that isn't all that matters. Don't you remember anything I told you from before? And I don't know about you, but I think it's clear that he did all of this so that you wouldn't find out about him. About us. But now you know, so _that's_ what matters!"

Another grunt came from the bed and Goku walk over to him and turned his head next to Vegeta's mouth so he could hear what he was saying. After a few moments, he lifted his head back up.

"Yeah, I told her," he finally said, "A few hours ago actually."

Vegeta let out a loud groan and put his hands on his head.

"How much did you drink?" Bulma asked him, and Goku turned, surprised that she was actually talking to him. He only responded with another low grunt, so Goku translated for him.

"Saiyans can consume a lot more alcohol than humans can, as Vegeta has demonstrated countless times for us, but let's just say that if you drank half as much as he did, you would have died within the hour from alcohol poisoning."

Vegeta slowly lifted himself up to a sitting position as Goku headed for the bedroom door.

"W-Where are you going?" Bulma stammered, not ready to be alone with the guy who had threatened her life while he was so drunk like he was. It seemed like the most likely way for her to die.

"Chichi's going to need my help in about a minute or so, and I don't want to make her wait. It'll be fine, Bulma." He began to walk again, but turned around, "Just… If he starts to cry out in pain… Come get me immediately, okay?" He tried to smile, but couldn't as he left the door wide open and headed back down the stairs to help Chichi.

Bulma looked over at Vegeta, who was now sitting up, his hands behind him for support.

"So, you're my seraph," he said slowly, his head moving in odd ways. There was a clearly alcohol-caused smile spread over his face.

"Are you an alcoholic?" she asked angrily, not quite sure what a seraph was. She didn't think she wanted to find out, either.

"What does it _look_ like to _you_?" he asked happily, the smile still on his face, but before Bulma could give a sarcastic answer to his rhetorical question, his arms collapsed and his head hit the bed behind him. "I want to get _up_ ," he said, "Help me get _up_." He reached out both his hands and waited for a second before the effort became too much for him and he let them fall back to his sides.

There was a long pause between them. Bulma didn't want to break the awkward silence in the room. The noises from the party downstairs were back to normal. She guessed the excitement was still lingering in the atmosphere, but the topics for discussion had changed to schoolwork or something else that was unimportant.

" _Shut_ up!" Bulma jumped at Vegeta's rumbly voice. He laughed. Clearly seeing her start like that was his intent. "You don't talk much, do you?" he laughed.

"Not to people who want to kill me," she replied softly. She barely heard herself speak, so when a response came, she jumped again.

"I don't want to _kill_ you," he smirked at another jump on her part. "I could never _kill_ you. You're too _important_."

"Important?" she cautiously questioned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

There was another long pause.

"I want to get up," he repeated, not answering her question. "Why won't you _help_ me? Are you _afraid_?"

"Yes," she spat, "In fact I'm very afraid."

"Of _what_ ," he asked happily, rolling his head from side to side as he stared at the white ceiling.

"Of _you_ , you moron." She meant to make it sound demanding, but it came out as a mix of sadness and anger. She felt a tear drop from her eye to the bottom of her chin, and she stared at the dark part of the carpet where it landed and soaked in.

" _Why_? _Why_ do I frighten you like _that_?"

"What do you care?" she spat again.

"I don't _want_ you to be afraid of me. Why would I _want_ that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" she asked, folding her arms and turning her head away from him in rebelliousness. She felt a little stupid for talking to a drunk like this. After all, everything he said would be a cause of his being drunk. Nothing would be truthful…

" _Because,_ then you wouldn't want to be _around_ me," he stated flatly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned for a moment, but then the same drunken smile came to him face. "And _that's_ what I wouldn't want."

"I'm leaving," Bulma said, uncrossing her arms and heading for the door. "If you want to kill me, just make it fast the next time you see me, okay? Because I really don't _enjoy_ being afraid of my own bedroom, thank you."

When Bulma reached the second step down, she heard a loud thump and turned around to find Vegeta on the floor, his face in the carpet, and one arm outstretched in her direction. He mumbled something she didn't understand and made a show of an effort to reach out even farther with his already outstretched arm. Bulma sighed and went over to him, bending down.

"What the hell are you doing? You're such an idiot." She helped to flip him over onto his back to find that the smile was back on his face. His eyes were lightly shut and his arm was still in the direction of the stairs, unmoving. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. Bulma found it difficult not to look away from those piercing black eyes, even as jubilant as they were because of the alcohol he had consumed earlier.

"I just said I don't want you to _leave_. Why would you _go_?" he asked, a playful sadness in his eyes.

"Well, I just said I was afraid of you, so the real question is why didn't I leave _sooner_."

"What can I do?"

"What?"

"Can I _do_ something that won't make you _afraid_ of me?"

"Yes. You can let me _leave_."

"I didn't _stop_ you before," he said with a smirk. "You came back because you _wanted_ to."

"Wrong. I came back because your face was stuffed in the carpet, and I wasn't sure if you could breathe or not by the way you were motioning for me to come back."

" _That's_ a start," he said happily.

"What's a start?"

"You don't want me to _die_ ," he said matter-of-factly, and Bulma rolled her eyes.

"That's because I'm nothing like you."

"Opposites attract," he said happily, his head rolling to one side as his voice faded out. Bulma stood up again, preparing to leave as Vegeta's eyes gently slid shut again. "Will you help me up now?" he called as she reached the doorway. She looked at the ground, back at Vegeta, and then to the ground below her once more before finally responding.

"No," she said simply. But it wasn't before she reached the platform on the stairs that she realized that her voice had actually sounded apologetic.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"Bulma! Hey, how's Vegeta doing?" Chichi called, waving to the aqua-haired teen coming down the stairs. She was wearing an apron that read, 'Kiss the Cook'. It was so not original, but it seemed to fit her perfectly anyway. There was no doubt in her mind that every time Goku saw it, he really kissed her.

As soon as she touched the floor of the downstairs floor, many people's eyes seemed to be drawn to her like red and white magnets to a thin copper wire. People turned and stopped dancing while the music still played. What were they staring at anyway? Did everyone know that she had been up there with Vegeta? Was that why they were staring at her like that?

17 was at her side in the next moment, starling Bulma.

"Hey there," he said. He was obviously buzzed and an empty glass beer bottle was in his left hand. Bulma smiled shyly in return, but backed away towards the kitchen and Chichi.

"You see?" she said happily, "Didn't I tell you that you look great?"

"I think they're looking at me because they know that I was up there with Vegeta, Chichi."

"So what?"

"I don't know. What if they think that we were… you know. I don't want any rumors to spread about us. I don't even like him. I hate him."

"Don't be like that. And who cares what other people say about you? If they want to spread rumors, then that's their problem, not yours. Your true friends will stick up for you. Other than them, who else could you possibly care about and what they think of you? They don't even know you."

Goku came over to Chichi and wrapped his big arms around her from behind. He then addressed Bulma. "How is he?" he asked, and Bulma didn't have to wonder who he was asking about.

"Drunk," she replied with a smirk, and he smiled back.

"I know that part," he said, "But how's he doing? Is he okay? Did he say he needs anything?"

Bulma paused. "How can you care so much about him?" she asked, and an unfitting frown creased Goku's once upbeat features.

"Because he's my friend, Bulma." He looked offended and she wished she hadn't said anything about it.

"Sorry," she replied quickly. "It's just that he doesn't seem like the person that someone else would care about. And I don't mean any offense by that."

"None taken," he said, but the frown didn't leave his face, so Bulma guessed he had taken some offense anyway. "But Vegeta and I grew up together on our planet. When Saiyans are born, they're paired with another newborn, and they become partners for life. Some even get teams of three or four when they're born, but Vegeta and I were made partners because of my low power level when I was born. It's ironic now, because I'm stronger than he is, but he's the prince of all Saiyans, so our elders believed that the strongest warrior should be paired with the weakest to make the team even. They also wanted the prince to have someone on his team that was obedient and yielding to him. This seemed more likely with me because they believed I would grow up to be one of the weakest Saiyans ever born, easy to boss around, I guess. But instead, they got a little bit of a surprise and by the time they noticed their mistake, it was too late. We were already on our first purging mission when we reached the age of nine, and we knew each other. I knew his weaknesses and strengths, and he knew mine. We were a team for life, and that was that.

"So when you ask me how I can care about someone like him, I guess you could say that he's saved my life countless times, and I've saved his just the same. I know him better than anyone in the universe, Bulma. So, yes. I care about whether or not he's feeling okay right now."

"He's doing fine," Bulma replied, after a couple seconds of silence passed between them. Chichi put a hand on Bulma's shoulder.

"Goku doesn't mean any harm by that. You know that, right, Bulma?"

"No, of course," she said, shaking her head at the ground and slowly shutting her eyes once and then opening them to look at Chichi as she lifted her head to show that she was fine.

"Who did you leave with him?" she asked and Bulma cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, who did I leave with him?" she asked, confused. Goku looked at her in surprise.

"You mean, there's no one up there with him now?" he asked, already heading for the stairs.

"No. Why? Is that bad?" she asked him, following after in a bit of a rush.

"Bulma," Chichi said, running behind her as they reached the stairs, "Didn't you consider that everyone in this house knows that Vegeta was up there with you, and now you're down here, and he isn't?"

"Sure I did," she replied defensively, "But then why is Goku so worried?"

"Remember when I told you that everyone is out to get him for their own reasons back in school? Well, every girl in this house now knows that he's in my bedroom, alone, and _extremely_ drunk. And every guy knows that he's all alone and almost passing out _without_ the aid of someone beating the crap out of him."

"Oh…," Bulma said meekly, realizing exactly what Chichi was talking about and picking up the pace, taking two steps at a time. Goku was already at the top of the stairs and grumbling something under his breath.

Bulma crested over the top of the stairs and saw Vegeta, sitting up on the bed with his shirt off. A group of four girls were fighting with two boys, yelling at them to stop. Bulma noticed one of the boys as Sharpner, and two of the girls were Maron and 18.

"Who let her back in here?" Chichi asked violently, pointing at Maron. "I sent you out! That's an invitation to _stay away_ , if you didn't notice!"

"Cut it out, Sharpner!" 18 was yelling, and Bulma almost screeched when his fist started flying towards her prettily made up face. But 18 caught his fist, mid-swung, and twisted it until the blonde boy was cringing on the ground. The boy that was with him kicked upward in hopes that it would make contact with 18's arm and break Sharpner free, but her other hand swung around and grabbed his leg. Bulma gasped when she lifted both of the boys off the ground as if they were as light as a feather, and threw them back at the ground. She heard something snap, a scream from Sharpner, and then both boys were standing again, facing 18 like raging bulls.

"You asked for it, _bitch_!" they yelled, but Goku took off and stood in front of 18, guarding her. Bulma had the quaint feeling that she didn't need to be guarded, but she knew that Sharpner and his crony would be taken care of sooner than later.

"Cut that out!" she heard Chichi yell to the other three girls. Bulma glanced over at them on the bed with Vegeta and raced forward. Maron was laughing as she reached to pull off his boot. The other two girls had their hands over their mouths as they giggled uncontrollably. Vegeta's eyes were closed, but one hand was on his head. Bulma guessed that he was starting to get the dreaded headache and felt sorry for him, but not before she tackled the first black-haired girl she got close enough to. Chichi went straight for Maron, probably still angry about her faked departure. She also surmised that these two were the ones who had let her back in after she was ordered to leave.

The second girl grabbed Bulma from behind and lifted her off the black-haired girl with some effort and a couple grunts. Bulma mentally laughed at the irony that her weight was now helping her.

"Get off me!" she yelled, throwing her arms back and hoping they hit something important or something that would really hurt. But nothing made contact, so she continued flailing, hoping that she could break free of the second girl's grasp.

But before she knew it, Sharpner's crony was tackling the two of them, and Bulma was thrown from the girl's arms as the black-haired girl dug her freshly-manicured nails into Bulma's left forearm. She yelped and slapped the girl across the face, sending her head whirling. The nails came loose, and Bulma looked down to find blood dripping down her arm. She shook the feeling of pain away as the second girl was back on top of her.

"Vegeta's mine, you whore!" she screeched, pulling on Bulma's hair. The black-haired girl was on top of her as well in the next moment, and out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Chichi punching Maron in the mouth. She gave a holler of encouragement and shook a fist in the air for her friend, but the two girls on her didn't notice. They were completely focused on Bulma. And it was obvious that the only thing they really wanted was Vegeta. Bulma felt a little weird defending the boy whom she now hated, but with her adrenaline rushing as it was, she couldn't help but think that this was the best party she had ever been to in her entire life.

She let out a war cry and threw herself at the black-haired girl again, but the second one held her hair tightly and yanked her back. She saw 18 and Goku scaring off Sharpner's crony as he raced down the stairs in retreat, but Sharpner wasn't leaving just yet. He held his hand as if it was broken, and Bulma remembered the snap she had heard before.

Bulma reached behind her until she felt the hand on her hair and dug her nails in as hard as she could, but leaving her hands above her head, the black-haired girl threw a punch in her stomach. Bulma coughed up saliva, but dug her nails in even deeper, persistent on getting her hair free.

When Bulma felt the tug on the back of her head loosen, she yanked her head forward and made to throw herself at the black-haired girl again, but not before she noticed Vegeta. His eyes were open and he was staring at her in what looked to be awe. He tried to sit up, but fell back down, the drunken smile taking place on his face like before. Bulma scowled at him. Even while he was drunk like he was, how could he be smiling at a time like this? He was such a jerk, she concluded.

"Bulma!" Chichi screeched, and Bulma whipped her head around to find her friend in Maron's stranglehold. She yelped in pain, and Goku moved like a bullet to come to her aid. Maron was in the air in the next moment, fighting to get away from Goku's cage-like grasp. But it was no use. He made his way down the stairs to throw her out for a second time as Chichi maneuvered herself to attack the black-haired girl. 18 seemed to be playing with Sharpner, dodging his attacks as if she saw them coming a mile away and laughing when he missed.

Bulma concluded that Sharpner was a pure-hearted jackass, trying to hit a girl like that. If she ever got the chance, she'd sock him right in the nose.

"Hey, Bulma! Watch out!" Chichi called, grabbing the black-haired girl's leg as she tried to kick her. She twisted the girl's ankle around and pushed her forward violently so she had to hop on one foot to keep the bone in her apprehended leg from snapping in half.

Bulma turned to find a fist flying at her shoulder. She moved to her right, surprisingly dodging the attack. She never knew she could move that fast in a tight situation. But the girl had another attack coming from her foot below, and Bulma knew that she wasn't that good. She was going to have to take this one head-on.

But another movement from the corner of her eye gathered her attention. It was Vegeta, and he moved like lightning. She barely saw him move, but when he stopped, the slow motion effect started taking its effect on her again. He was laughing, the girl's leg in his one hand. He pulled her forward until his mouth was right next to her face, and hissed in her ear, "How _dare_ you hurt my seraph."

And then he let her go.

And the girl raced out of the room, nearly tripping over herself as she took three steps at a time. Bulma turned to him, now truly wondering what a seraph was. She wanted to know what a seraph was because she wanted to know what she was to Vegeta. It seemed extremely important to her now. She wanted to know what scared that girl so much. Whatever it was, it was enough to drive the mouse away from the cheese. It was as if someone told the mouse that the cheese was actually on a trap. Or that the cheese _was_ the trap…

Bulma reached her hand out to touch him, to gather his attention, but he leaned forward, and fell back onto the bed in a heap. She saw Sharpner running out of the room after that, and then, when the black-haired girl realized that she was all alone, she ran faster than any of the others to escape from them.

Goku came back up the stairs a few momenta later and smiled at Chichi. She exchanged a private smile in return before Goku was at Vegeta's side, shaking him a bit.

"Hey, you alright?" he asked. He didn't sound worried in the slightest, Bulma noticed. Vegeta's head slightly moved up and down and Goku let out a chuckle at his attempted response. "Feeling a little less drunk yet?" he asked rhetorically, and Vegeta growled at him. "I guess that's a yes."

"That's what you get, big-shot," Chichi said, wagging a finger at the back of his head, "You drink like that, and you're going to get a week-long hangover!" Vegeta groaned in response, but he didn't lift his head to make his voice understandable to anyone.

"Thank you," Bulma found herself saying, much to everyone's surprise. She thought she saw Vegeta's mouth curve into a slight smile, but she wasn't sure because of the shadowing of the carpet on his face.

"I never knew you had it in you to fight when you're full of alcohol, Saiyan," 18 said, walking over to them. Bulma looked up and then over at Goku.

"She knows?"

"Of course I know," she replied, an edge to her voice. "It's not like I'm human or anything. I could tell the difference between your species and his from a mile away. You're quite different, actually. More than you would know."

"What are you talking about?" Bulma asked.

"17 and 18 are brother and sister, but they're also androids," Chichi elaborated, and Bulma's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Androids?! They don't exist."

"Thanks," 18 said emotionlessly. She had an unreadable look in her eyes, but then she turned her head away. "I'd better go get 17. We should start heading out before it gets late. I don't want to have to fly home in the dark."

"You can fly, too?" Bulma asked.

"Who can't?" she asked, the edge back in her voice. Bulma didn't like the tone she used when the edge was there. It sounded too offending for her liking.

"I can't," she stated flatly.

"Well of course you can't. You're only human."

"Krillin can fly," Chichi added in a hopeful tone. Hopeful for what, Bulma didn't quite know.

At the mention of Krillin's name, 18 scowled and turned to storm down the stairs in an angry huff.

"What's with _her_?" Goku asked, rubbing the side of his head in confusion as she reached the platform and turned out of their sights.

"We talked about _Krillin_ in front of her," Chichi said, rolling her eyes in exhaustion from the apparently over-used topic. "She hates that. It's like she has some horrible vendetta against the poor guy. I don't know why she has to act that way. Everyone but her seems to know that he likes her."

Vegeta tried to say something, but couldn't be heard again.

"My thoughts exactly, buddy," Goku said, and Chichi laughed. Bulma giggled a little, but it really wasn't that funny of a joke to her.

"I guess the party's over?" Goku asked, although it was more like a statement than a question.

"I guess so," Chichi replied. "Time to start kicking people out of my house and analyze the damage everyone caused."

"Don't forget about paying the DJ. He's very picky about his money."

"I know. I liked the old one better—"

Bulma purposefully coughed and they turned to her. They paused for a moment and then laughed.

"Sorry, Bulma. Almost forgot you were there." They laughed again, and Bulma joined in. Vegeta grumbled again, and they laughed even harder. He flipped himself over and he was aiming a frown directly at Goku.

"What's up?" Goku asked.

"Ginger ale," he demanded tersely, and Goku turned to Chichi.

"Yes. I've got plenty for an average human, but you… I don't know," Chichi said, and Vegeta snorted in discomfort. "If you're going to throw up, please go to the bathroom, okay?"

He nodded and stood up. He nearly ran into the hallway and rounded the next corner.

"Here he goes again," Goku said, rolling his eyes as Bulma became nauseous just listening to Vegeta as he puked his brains out in the other room.

"If he misses the toilet again, so help me god, I _will_ kill him," Chichi threatened.

"Does this happen a lot?" Bulma asked in confusion.

"More often than I'd like, but no. He does it maybe once or twice a year, but it's an experience you'll never forget… Or one that _I'll_ never forget, because I'm usually the one who ends up cleaning the mess he leaves behind. Trust me, when _Saiyans_ get sick, they throw up a hell of a lot more than humans do, and I'm not just saying that because I hate cleaning it. I'm saying it because I'm dead serious."

"Do you think I should go help him?" Bulma asked, two parts of her torn between which answer she believed she wanted to hear come out of her friend's mouth.

"Whatever. I don't give a damn. If he makes another mess, you'll have to help him save his life… from me! But I don't know. If you think you can prevent him from causing his own death, then yeah, go help him all you want. You'll be doing me a favor as well."

Bulma stood and made her way to the bathroom, wondering if that was the answer she had truly been looking for. She poked her head inside, seeing as the door was already open, and found Vegeta, in the expected position of over the open toilet.

"You forgot something," he said, obviously holding in another round so he could speak to her for a moment. He pointed behind his back without turning his head. Bulma followed his finger to a bra on the floor. Her face went red when she noticed that she had left it there when she had put on the dress she was now wearing. The dress showed off her shoulders and came with a built-in bra, so she had left hers here.

"That's Chichi's," she said, covering for herself.

"I don't think so," he said, and Bulma could tell that he was smiling. "Unless she smells exactly like you."

"Excuse me?"

"Your scent is all over that thing, so I presumed that it was yours. Maybe you should stop stealing other people's things, then."

"Fine, it's mine. You don't have to make such a big deal about it."

"I'm not the one making a big deal here."

"Well someone here is, and it's certainly not me."

"We can go back and forth like this for however long you want, woman. I have all day." He turned back to the toilet and threw up again. The noises he made sounded like he was in horrible pain and Bulma almost felt like crying.

"You look pathetic," Bulma said softly.

"You _are_ pathetic," he replied, thinking that this was a game she was playing with him. She sighed and turned to leave.

"Where are you running off to now?" he called before she reached the doorway.

"Running off? What do you think I'm running _from_ , exactly?"

"You tell me."

"I'm not running from anything, Vegeta. I just think that it's extremely disgusting, what you're doing in here."

"I'm sorry," he sarcastically spat, "If it bothers you that much, then I guess I'll just _stop_."

"Whatever," Bulma said, annoyed. She rolled her eyes and prepared to exit the room, but then turned back around to face him. "Why did you want me to help you up?"

"What?"

"Before, in the bedroom. You kept asking me to help you up. I want to know why."

"I don't know what you're blabbering about now, woman, but I'd appreciate it if you'd stop."

"When you were _wasted_ , you moron! You were asking me to help you get up when you were on the bed! Why?!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Vegeta demanded, and Bulma went back a step. He really didn't know what she was talking about… That was strange.

"Never mind," she quickly said, and then left the bathroom, consumed with many of her own bewildering thoughts.


	12. The Motorcycle

**Chapter Eleven: The Motorcycle**

Goku and Vegeta sat on the couch in the living room while Bulma listened to the television's volume overpowering Vegeta's whining about how his head hurt something fierce. She was in the kitchen with Chichi, helping to clean up the mess from the party earlier in the night. It was almost two in the morning, and Chichi had offered for her to sleep over. Bulma had gladly accepted. Driving in the dark wasn't one of her favorite things to do. Especially when she was alone. She had watched way too many scary movies as a child for her own good. It had bended her mind into thinking that the darkness always held something mysterious, and sometimes the mysterious was quite deadly. As she had grown older, she knew that the only thing in the dark was the same thing that was in the light. You just couldn't see it as clearly. It didn't make a closet or a shadow any more mysterious or fatal than it was when the lights were turned on.

She could feel her body fighting off the drowsiness. She wasn't used to staying up so late. Although Chichi had insisted that it was good for a teenager to stay up late on a Friday night. Bulma thought of it more as Saturday morning, but Chichi said that Friday nights were special and lasted longer than the other days of the weeks' nights. Bulma didn't get it, but decided to fight off her sleepiness nonetheless. She wouldn't leave Chichi all alone with all this work by herself. It wasn't in her nature. She would stay awake until Chichi went to bed, or until the entire house was cleaned.

"So," Chichi said, startling Bulma. They hadn't spoken in a while, other than Chichi instructing Bulma on where certain things went. "Wasn't that fun?"

"Wasn't what fun?" Bulma asked, funneling the chips back into the packaging bag and moving towards the sink to wash the bowl.

"The party. I bet you've never been to a party like mine before, have you?"

Bulma looked over at her friend as she turned the water on warm. She was beginning to get a few bruises on her arms and one small one on her face. "If you call getting into a fight to protect some drunken idiot 'fun,' then I guess."

"I heard that!" Vegeta called and Bulma heard Goku laugh over the television's high volume.

"But other than that," Chichi insisted, "Wasn't it fun?"

"Sure. After I got dressed up, all that really happened was I thought Vegeta had a mental breakdown, walking in here with Maron. Then Goku brought him upstairs where I felt like an idiot because he was blabbering about nothing. Then I got into a fight and had tons of my hair ripped out. I learned that two of the students in Orange Star High are actually androids, and then I watched Vegeta throw up, which made me almost puke as well. I wouldn't normally call that 'fun,' but I guess I could make an exception just this once."

Chichi couldn't tell if Bulma was being sarcastic or not, but frankly, Bulma didn't know either, so it didn't seem to matter as much.

"You looked great," Chichi said after another long period of silence. Bulma placed the cleaned bowl upside down on a towel and placed a serving spoon under it so air would go under and it would dry.

"Thanks to you," Bulma said, yawning. She moved back to the bag of chips and closed it with a clip. She placed it in the corner of the counter with the rest of the non-refrigerated bags of food.

"I don't know about you, but now _I'm_ starting to get tired." Bulma looked over to see that her yawn had been contagious.

"What do you mean, you don't know about me? I told you I was tired hours ago."

"You never know. You could have forgotten all about it and then your brain just told you that you weren't tired anymore."

"I don't think it works like that, Chichi," Bulma laughed, hiding another yawn behind the back of her hand.

"Yeah, time for bed," she said, stretching her arms above her head and then picking up the last bowl of food, wrapping it and placing it in the crowded refrigerator. There was absolutely no more room in there for anything else, Bulma concluded. After taking fifteen minutes of her time to take everything out and put it back in like a jigsaw puzzle, she knew that nothing else would be able to fit unless Chichi had a shrink ray hidden in that vanity of hers.

Bulma nodded and followed Chichi into the living room.

"Alright, boys," Chichi said, continuing to stretch out her arms over her head. "Time for bed." Bulma was surprised at her motherly instincts and how Goku and Vegeta seemed to know that they were being treated as the children in the house. Chichi had complete control. That much was obvious to Bulma.

"Wait," Bulma said, a thought striking her like lightning. "Isn't Vegeta going home?"

"Home?" Goku asked, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. "Bulma, he lives here with us. We came from a different planet on a mission to destroy all life. We weren't planning on affording a house while we were here. We didn't bring any money in thoughts of renting one, either."

"And lucky I had one to share. My dad's gone away most of the time for work, and he has another house up in the mountains, far away from here. Sure, I miss him a lot, but I know that if he was here, he'd never let Goku stay with me, much less have parties all the time. And much, _much_ less, have Vegeta live here, too."

"Thanks," he grumbled, gulping down another can of ginger ale.

"Are they helping at all?" Chichi asked, pointing to the pile of empty cans on the ground below the couch.

"I don't know, but if they are, I wouldn't want to stop drinking them just to find out." He picked up another can and gulped it down in one loud slurp. Bulma never even knew it was possible to drink an entire can of soda without pausing to breathe, but Vegeta often held surprises for her. For instance, she never knew that it was possible to throw up so much that the toilet almost overflowed with puke. Luckily, Chichi had come in at that exact moment and flushed the toilet over Vegeta's head. And even luckier, he hadn't made any sort of mess, leaving Chichi in a good mood… so far.

"Where do I get to sleep?" Bulma asked, remembering that there were only two bedrooms upstairs: Chichi's and another that looked like the master bedroom of the house.

"Well," Chichi said, "I guess Goku and I can share my dad's room tonight. Then you and Vegeta can—"

"I'll sleep downstairs," Vegeta interrupted, and Bulma looked over at him. He was still tightly gripping the can of soda in his fist and she was surprised that it hadn't snapped in half so far. She understood the meaning behind his statement, seeing as she wouldn't want to be woken up by violent puking spasms or something like that. But she couldn't help but feel a bit hurt that he didn't want to share a room with her. She knew that she was just being too self-conscious about it. She barely even knew Vegeta, when it came right down to it. Sure, she'd spent some time with him and got to know him a bit, but she didn't know anything about him, aside from being a powerful prince of an alien race that secretly wanted to kill everyone on Earth.

Bulma let out a held breath. She hoped Goku was right about him not wanting that any more. She certainly didn't want to die young, but somehow, the idea of being killed by Vegeta stirred something inside of her that made her instantly regret thinking about it at all. After that thought crossed her mind, she knew that she must have been _really_ tired for her mind to take such a sickening, and yet somehow pleasurable turn as the one she had just experienced.

Bulma saw Chichi frown out of the corner of her eye and Bulma caught Goku shrugging at the raven-haired girl. Bulma guessed that something was up between the two of them that she wasn't allowed in on. It looked like Vegeta was ignoring them, like usual.

"Alright then," Goku said, standing up, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come ask for it," he said to Vegeta, who grunted something about Chichi not having enough of the ginger ale in her house to help him keep his stomach down and something else about not wanting to see them together in the same bed because it would make him even more sick. He didn't use those exact words, but it was Bulma's interpretation of the noises that he made.

"Hope you feel better soon," Chichi added, waving to him nonchalantly and following Goku up the stairs. Then Bulma was left alone with the Saiyan Prince. Different emotions collided as she wondered whether or not it was best to run away immediately or take her chances and try to talk with her dream boy.

"Aren't you going, as well?" he asked in a low, husky voice, breaking the silence. Bulma fretted with a piece of her hair, seeing as Vegeta had just made her decision for her.

"Yeah," she said, turned to the stairs. "Goodnight," she added softly, beginning the climb to the bedroom. She never heard him respond, which felt like a small needle through her heart, but she ignored it to the best of her ability as she rounded the corner and entered Chichi's bedroom.

There wasn't much to it, besides the bed, the vanity, a small dresser, an even smaller desk, and a closet. The walls were one solid color, and the bed's sheets clashed with it. She pulled the covers off the bed and turned on the side lamp on the nightstand. As she climbed into bed on all fours, Chichi appeared in the doorway with a long pink robe on.

"Hey, Bulma," she whispered, already in the nighttime mood.

"Hey Chichi. What's up?"

"I just wanted to tell you that Goku and I were planning a couple special surprises for you. One of them is for tomorrow. But I came to tell you not to be mad at us, okay?"

"What? Why would I be mad?" Bulma asked, wiping her eyes. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything. Her eyelids felt as if they weighed five times what they usually did, and they were slowing shutting as the result of it.

"I don't think you will be. Just be prepared for something tomorrow, okay?"

Bulma just nodded. Chichi said goodnight somewhere in her next sentence, but Bulma was already in the pleasure of what she had come to know as sleep.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma jerked her eyes open at the sound of someone yelling. As she came-to and sat up, looking warily around the room, she recognized that the intense sound had been Vegeta. She would know his voice from a mile away. It wasn't something a person actually forgot once they heard it for the first time.

She stood up and stretched her arms. Then she heard a screech that sounded like Chichi. Bulma's first guess was that she had to clean a mess that Vegeta had made, whether it was from breakfast or his hangover. But then she heard another yell that she identified as Goku's booming voice, which was also unforgettable. She wondered if it was just a Saiyan thing.

"… why she won't get up already!" Bulma caught a bit of what they were arguing about, but paused when she heard this. It sounded like _she_ was the cause of the yelling. But why?

"… just wake her up already!" The same voice. Both times had been Vegeta. She wondered why he was so angry about her sleeping. She glanced at the clock to find that it was only nine in the morning. It wasn't as if she had slept the day away. And what did he care how long she slept? He could do whatever he wanted.

"… don't know why you're making such a big deal!" That was Chichi.

"…don't know why I have to do this! Can't you just let her stay here for the day?!"

"We have work! We can't leave her here by herself!"

"… is all _your_ fault, Kakarot!" Vegeta's again. "Don't you know I have places I need to be on a Saturday morning?!"

"Vegeta, just calm down!" That was Goku's.

"… going to kill her… don't know why she can't just wake up already!" Bulma growled under her breath. What was he blaming her for now? And why was it always her? Couldn't he blame himself every now and again just for convenience purposes? It would make some people's lives a hell of a lot easier.

"… your fault for taking the car!"

"I didn't touch it, Vegeta!" Chichi's whine. "Goku and I flew her here last night. She didn't have her car with her!"

Bulma walked to the edge of the stairs. Now she understood why Vegeta was angry. Chichi and Goku were obviously lying to him about something. Her car was right outside. She remembered coming here in it so she could drive herself home when the party was over. But then, why were they lying? Couldn't they all just look outside and see that her car was really there?

She turned to the window of the bedroom and looked outside into the driveway, confident that her small white car would be waiting there for her… But when she looked all over, it was nowhere in sight. It had completely vanished.

The first thought that struck her mind was Chichi's comment from the night before. Was this her surprise? And how was making Vegeta want to kill her, _again_ , a surprise? _What's Chichi up to this time?_ she wondered.

"I have to leave, _now_!" Vegeta bellowed, and then she heard him stomping around the house, Goku and Chichi calling after him. Bulma jumped and panicked when she heard his loud footsteps approach the bottom of the stairs. She raced to the bed and pretended to be asleep again. It seemed like forever until Vegeta reached the top of the stairs and she heard him approach the side of the bed. Luckily, her back was turned towards the door, so he couldn't see the stunned expression on her face.

"Wake up, woman!" he yelled, lifting the mattress a bit for effect. Bulma, startled, remained in her pretending sleep. She didn't know what he wanted, but she knew that he was angry. She wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest way if she flipped over to find smoke coming out of his ears. "Wake up!" he repeated, letting go of the mattress and shaking her shoulder. She was surprised when he barely used any force that Bulma almost considered it gentle, despite his rough tone. "Get up already!"

"Vegeta!" Chichi called, reaching the top of the stairs, Goku right behind her, "She went to bed around three in the morning! She's barely had any time to sleep."

"Well, _we're_ all up, aren't we?" he asked angrily, shaking her shoulder again. Bulma noted how his touch remained gentle on her. He turned back to her and let go of her shoulder. "I know you're up, woman," he said, "You may feel like pretending that you are asleep just to piss me off, but energy signals don't lie!"

Bulma, feeling defeated, slowly flipped over. The first thing she did was look at Chichi. "Where's my car?" she asked, and a finger slice of the neck from Goku told her that she shouldn't bring it up. She hoped that they hadn't managed to trash her car. What had they been thinking? What was taking her car going to accomplish as a surprise?

"Let's go," Vegeta said heatedly, lifting Bulma off the bed and flipping her over his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bulma asked, her head spinning as he literally flew down the stairs and came to a stunning halt beside the door. He opened it and Bulma shielded her eyes from the sunlight. He put her down and she squinted, putting an open hand against her forehead. "What's going on?" she asked him, but instead of giving her an answer, he shoved a black helmet in her face.

"Put this on," he said, and Bulma watched him swing a leg over his pitch black motorcycle. Oh, she thought emotionlessly. This was the surprise. When Chichi said that she could get them together back in the beginning of the week, she hadn't been kidding. But yet, Bulma wasn't quite sure that pissing him off was going to get him to like her more. Or like her at all, since it seemed like even that was a stretch.

"Where are we going?" she asked, sliding the helmet on over her bedhead, happy to have it covered so no one could see it out in public.

" _You're_ going home," he said, as if talking with a naughty child, revving the engine as she hopped onto the back. "Where _I'm_ going is none of your concern."

There was a long pause and Bulma could feel Vegeta's anger rising. She felt her heartbeat speed up dramatically, looking around for whatever the cause of his anger was. She wanted to get rid of it before her turned it on her.

"Well?!" he roared at her, and Bulma realized that _she_ was the source of his anger. She glanced down at herself. What was wrong with her? What was making him so angry with her? "What are you doing now, woman? Taking another nap, I suppose?"

"What?" Bulma timidly dared to ask, but not before her hands were grabbed and she was pulled forward by Vegeta's firm grip. His hands touched back to the handle of the bike, and Bulma's were nervously on each side of his waist. She feared to move. She felt privileged, but more embarrassed and jumpy at touching him like that.

"Are you an idiot?" he asked, a bit calmer now, but the insult still stung like a bitch. Bulma could begin to feel her own blood boiling a bit by now.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her anger starting to show through her mask.

"This isn't a _joke_ , woman. I have places to be, and I can't wait for hours just so you can feel comfortable about riding with me!" he bellowed, and Bulma felt her anger quickly fade. What in the world was he talking about? He wanted her to let go of him? That was insane. She'd fall off for sure.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, noticing Chichi's worried expression from the window of the house behind her. Some surprise.

"I'm talking about the fact that you'll fall off if I start to move right now," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I won't fall off," she said defiantly, still too nervous to move her hands. But in the next second, the bike peeled forward like a razor and Bulma was almost thrown from the back of the motorcycle. "What was that for?" she asked angrily, all too aware of her grip on him being tighter than before."

"Unlike you, _human_ ," he spat the world as if it tasted vile on his tongue, "I can crash this bike into a tractor trailer and walk away without a single scratch. You, on the other hand, would probably end up as a simple skid mark on the side of the road. I don't need the helmet. That's why I gave it to you. But if you feel that your discomfort is more important than your life, then be my guest and fall of. But I'd recommend holding on to me. I _do_ tend to drive a bit faster than the speed limit."

Bulma reluctantly moved her hands forward, sliding them across his stomach until her fingers touched and she laced them together. She felt the electricity sparking throughout her body at touching him. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time. She had never felt such a feeling before in her entire life.

She knew her heartbeat could be felt against his back, but he made no effort to show that he actually cared. Her head was on his shoulder, and the big, bulky helmet made her even more self-conscious about it. The last thing she wanted was to get in his way.

And then they were moving… _fast_. Bulma's eyes were closed beneath the helmet, but the speed of the wind told her that they were going way too fast for Chichi's little road. When he said he didn't obey the speed limit, he hadn't been joking.

"Could you slow down a bit?" she ventured to ask, her voice betraying her severe nervousness.

"After all the time you made me waste?" he asked angrily, "I don't think so."

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best. And after less time than she expected, they pulled into her driveway. She opened her eyes and looked at herself. She was in one piece, and it seemed like a miracle. Her arms were still fastened around Vegeta and her body was leaning up against his back with force that she guessed he would have been annoyed with if he was human. But she guessed that, since he wasn't, he barely felt her on him.

One of his legs swung over the bike as he hit the kickstand and leaned it against the gravel of her driveway. Bulma was about to ask how he knew where she lived, but kept her mouth shut when she remembered the prior day's nerve-racking activities in the high school and what Vegeta had told her. It seemed odd that he wanted to kill her one day, and then he was driving her home the next, although his crazy driving made her think that he still had the same objective on his mind.

Bulma quickly removed her arms from around him when he gave her a glare, seeing as he was already off the bike and standing while she had still been leaning off to one side of the bike to grip onto him. Her face turned crimson as he walked towards the woods. She watched him as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. Then as, Bulma guessed, the phone was ringing, he pointed at her and then motioned for her to go inside her house with a motion and a flick of his wrist. She hopped off the bike and made her way to the house. In Vegeta's rushing her, she had forgotten her purse at Chichi's house—the second purse she'd lost in the past 24 hours. She lifted up a planting pot and grabbed her spare key before making her way to the back door. As soon as she opened it, Vegeta was behind her. She turned to him with a scowl on his face.

"I thought you had to be somewhere," she analyzed earnestly, yet not failing to let the anger drip from her comment.

"I just bought myself some time," he said, patting the pocket that held his phone, and then pointed inside the garage, "Can I come in?"

"That depends. Would you come in anyway, even if I said no?"

"Probably," he said, looking resolved. He then pushed past her and walking inside, opening the door to the inside of the house. Bulma groaned and followed after him.

"So, what?" she asked, watching him make himself comfortable on her couch, "You act like a jerk, get me out of bed early, act like a jerk again, almost kill me on our way here, be a jerk again, and then invade my privacy by barging into my house uninvited?"

"Aside from the jerk part, I think you nailed most of it, although I never came close to killing you…" he said, closing his eyes and resting his hands behind his head. "You know," he began again, "I've never let anyone else ride with me."

"What?" Bulma asked, knowing perfectly well what he was talking about, yet her mind involuntarily wandered to a different kind of riding when it came to Vegeta. The passionate image in her head sped up her heartbeat a bit. She hoped he hadn't noticed.

"My motorcycle," he elaborated. "I've never let anyone else ride with me. I guess that record's broken now. But still, no one else has ever driven it, and that's going to stay the same no matter what."

"Is that what you told Maron when she brought you to the party last night on your motorcycle?" Bulma asked, finding a loophole in his statement.

"Actually, no," he said, a smirk gracing his features as he recalled the memory. "I remember telling her to fuck off as I rode away from her house. She followed me because, being as drunk as I was, I had to go pretty damn slow so I wouldn't ruin my bike in any type of accidents. She could keep up with me on foot. Why do you think I was so late? She didn't ride with me, and she certainly didn't drive for me. I'd kill her before she ever laid a hand on my property."

"And _you_ aren't your property?" Bulma asked, still trying to get something out of him. Coming to the party with Maron was insane, no matter what the reason was for it.

"I know you're jealous, woman, but I was only with her because I promised to, so she wouldn't tell you about Kakarot and I. It wasn't for you, trust me. It was so our secret wouldn't get out. I didn't want you blabbering to the rest of the world about it because it's not just my secret. It involves plenty of people that are in the school. Not just Kakarot and me."

"What did you promise to do for her?" Bulma asked, her gossip alert on full vigilance now.

"Why so interested? Hoping I'd make the same promise for you?" he asked, a devilish smirk on his face.

"If I knew what it was, I could answer that question."

"It was nothing, really. I just told her we could have some alone time Friday night. I don't know what she was thinking would happen, but she seemed to take it well. Obviously, it wasn't Maron I had to worry about. It was Kakarot who ended up telling you."

"So what did you do there?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes at her pushing the 20 questions thing. "I drank all the whiskey in her house. I figured I'd take something if I was being forced to spend time with her, and alcohol seemed like the perfect way to go. It turned out to be helpful while I was there, but then Kakarot had to stop by to tell me to come to some goddamn party to apologize to you…" He paused and turned to her with a sarcastic look on his face. "Sorry, by the way," he added. "And when I tried to leave, she followed me. I apologize if I made you feel like I _betrayed_ you," he smirked, looking over at her again. Bulma rolled her eyes. How could he betray her? They weren't together or anything. He could do whatever he wanted… Then why had she run away crying when she saw the two of them together last night?

She guessed that Vegeta had about the same thoughts on his mind.

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" she repeated sternly.

"What are you, my _mother_?" he spat.

"No, I'm not, thank God. I was just wondering why you made such a big deal about leaving to Chichi and Goku and dragged me out of bed just so you could make a phone call and buy yourself some more time."

"I was angry," he said defiantly, folding his arms. "I know perfect people like you don't do that, but I guess you'll have to deal with me anyway."

"Very funny. You want to tell me why you bought yourself extra time just to relax on my couch, or is there something you want?"

"I always want something. It's in my nature."

"Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Probably not."

"Why not?"

"I don't need a reason."

"You sure as hell do. You're in _my_ house, and I want to know why. So you're either going to tell me or get out. It's as simple as that."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said flatly, turning his head to look at her again. He smugly noticed that every time he looked into her bright blue eyes, he felt her heart skip a beat. He had the funny feeling that there was more than one reason he was really here every time it happened.

"You wouldn't know that unless you told me," Bulma said, wondering if she was getting anywhere like this.

"Don't get your hopes up," he finally said, and Bulma knew that whatever it was, he wasn't going to tell her today. But maybe next time she asked, he would tell her. And if not, then she'd try again another time. And if he still didn't give her an answer, then she'd wait a little while longer before asking him yet again.

All she knew was that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet. She suspected the entire "a different race that attracts humans because they have weird powers" complex, but she wasn't stupid enough to actually fall for that. She knew it was more. She didn't know if it was a spark or a wildfire. But she knew that it was something that drew Vegeta to her as well. It was the reason he walked out the door and got back on his phone. It was the reason she heard him whisper to someone that he was sorry about being so late. It was the reason he really _didn't_ call anyone before, when he had motioned for her to go into her house.

It was the reason he truly didn't have the time to come into her house, but did it anyway.


	13. Completely Unexpected

**Chapter Twelve: Completely Unexpected**

Bulma paced around her room. It was almost two in the afternoon and she still had nothing to do. She had watched a bit of television and ate whatever was left in her cabinet, but apart from those two boring yet time-consuming things, she had nothing left to do. She supposed that she could always go out to the store and find some more food. Despite being insanely rich, her laziness was getting the better of her and she had lacked the shopping required to make an actual dinner that didn't consist of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Feeling resigned, she made her way outside and spotted her small white car. She didn't remember seeing it when Vegeta had dropped her off earlier in the day, but she felt that was acceptable. She didn't really notice anything but Vegeta when she was around him. Being away from him would actually do her some good. It would make her more aware of what was around her.

She also knew that when Vegeta was around, she didn't need to be aware of what was around her because he could do it for her. He seemed to be able to feel the presence of other people, and he was certainly strong enough to manage to fight off anything that posed a threat to her.

All in all, Bulma knew that she felt safe with Vegeta around. It came naturally to her because he was, as put in Chichi's own words, the second strongest thing on the entire planet. Bulma wondered if Goku was really stronger than Vegeta. It seemed odd that he could be more powerful than the person who was the prince of the species. Maybe they just said it so many times to make Vegeta believe it so that he wouldn't start trouble with the knowledge that no one could do anything about it. It seemed as reasonable an explanation as any to Bulma. But then that would mean that he was stronger than Goku…

She made her way to the stairs and sat on the top step. She slowly pushed herself down on her behind, one step at a time. She was in no rush. The Shoprite that was a half an hour away wouldn't be closing any time soon.

When she finally reached the bottom floor, she pushed herself up with the help of the side railing and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed the only money she could find on the hutch, which wasn't much more than thirty dollars, and made her way out the door, replacing the key under the planting pot that she had taken it from earlier.

She walked to the car and opened the door…

Cursing, Bulma remembered that her keys were still in her purse back at Chichi's house. She guessed that it would take her a little over an hour to walk back there, so she went back inside and put on her walking sneakers. She replaced the key a second time after locking her door again, and started walking down her driveway. She wished she had a bike. She put a mental note in her head to buy one. It would have made her walking trip a lot faster, especially since most of the roads were flat. There were barely any hills on the way to the raven-haired girl's house.

She made it to the road and turned right. She still had her money with her, so maybe she could get her keys and just suck it up and go buy that bike right after. It would have to have a basket, though, if she was to bring home any food for the next few days. Her milk was expired back at home, so she would need to pick some of that up as well.

Unsurprisingly to Bulma, after she reached the end of her road, her thoughts drifted to Vegeta. She thought about him for a good five minutes. Just about the way he looked, about the way he appealed to her, the way he smelled, the way he acted, and most importantly, the fact that she was horribly and inevitably infatuated with him.

Her thoughts then wandered to Chichi and Goku. Chichi had said to her, the night before, that her and Goku were planning some surprises for her, and the first one hadn't turned out to be as bad as she thought it was going to be. Vegeta had a knack of being arrogant and demanding while other people were around, but she had the feeling that he felt the need to act like himself when he was around her and her only. If anyone else was around, it was like a guard was put up as a shield all around him. And it seemed like his body put it up involuntarily. It also seemed like he could control it at one point, but he'd been doing it for so long that it seemed second nature to him. Bulma suddenly wanted to find out what was beneath his penetrable shell.

She thought about her surprise again and wondered when the next one was going to come. It was obvious to Bulma now that Chichi's entire plan still revolved around getting her and Vegeta together. At first, Bulma didn't want to have anything to do with it, so she had forgotten all about it. But then she felt like it was a good idea because she wanted nothing more than to revel in her fantasies with Vegeta for real, but knew that it was impossible. But now… now she had the strange feeling that it could really happen. That Vegeta might actually feel something for her as well. She knew he must have confusing thoughts because of what she'd learned from Goku about Earth's purging and their mission to destroy the human race. But the fact was simple. She had confusing thoughts, too. She had never been in a high school up until less than a week ago, let alone talking to a guy her age. She didn't know what to do. At least he had three years of prior experience in a high school. She had nothing at all but her wits.

After her rational thoughts were coming to a close, she started to imagine Vegeta was walking with her. There were no cars on the tiny road as she turned onto Chichi's street. There was a corn field on her right and a few houses behind multitudes of trees on her left. It wasn't a busy street at all. Plus, it was probably about three in the afternoon on a Sunday. No one would really be out at that time on a Sunday. People came back from church a few hours ago and probably sat in front of their televisions for the rest of the day until dinnertime. That wasn't for at least another hour.

Bulma turned her head and tried to imagine Vegeta's voice in the back of her mind. She smiled at the air, glad that no one was around but her. The fantasy was simple, but it certainly made her smile. She wondered where he was, and if he was late for work, or whatever it was, from earlier in the morning. She had the funny feeling that she would try and beat up anyone who got mad at him for being late. She laughed to herself, breaking the silence of nature. Apart from the birds, that is.

The time passing by quicker with her imaginary Vegeta at her side, Bulma rounded the corner to Chichi's house and began to walk up the short driveway. She looked around. All but one car was gone. Chichi's van was gone. Vegeta's motorcycle was gone. The only thing left was a tan Explorer, which she guessed was Goku's, or Chichi's second vehicle, if Goku couldn't afford anything that expensive. But as she looked through the window and knocked on the door, she realized that no one was home. The doors were locked shut, and Bulma was stuck outside.

All she knew was that she didn't come all the way here just to turn around and go back empty-handed. She looked around and found a planting pot. She lifted it up, hoping that Chichi and she had their key-hiding place in common, but all she found was a dead spider. She looked all over the patio for a spare key, but found nothing. It was depressing. How could she not find a simple spare key? A magnet would have been helpful, but she didn't have one off-hand. Nobody just carried around a random magnet. That was just stupid.

Bulma growled as she realized that she had to go to the restroom. She sighed and continued hunting for a key. It had to be around her somewhere. Unless Chichi didn't have a spare key. Maybe she gave it to Goku or Vegeta. Bulma shook her head. What if Chichi got home and no one else was there? _There has to be one_ somewhere _around here_ , she thought eagerly to herself. She spotted a crevice beneath one of the wooden boards for the deck to the front house and reached her hand inside. Nothing was there either, so she stood back up and paced around for a moment. She still had to use the restroom and there was no way she was going in the woods.

She found a small yellow light attached to the house that had a flat top and reached above it. There was nothing there but a few cobwebs. She shook them off violently, on the alert for any pissed off spider that the web might have belonged to.

And then she heard what at first reminded her of angels singing. Then she realized that it was the roar of a motorcycle… A very familiar motorcycle.

Her first instinct was to run and hide, so she ducked under the stairs and peered out as she heard the motor cut. She kept her breathing low and wondered why she was hiding. But it was too late now. Vegeta was walking towards the deck. She thankfully heard the chime of a set of keys as he held out a chain that held four or five of them. Two of them obviously belonged to the motorcycle and the house. She wondered curiously what the others were for. Chichi didn't have any sheds or extra garages around, so it wasn't for something that she was aware of. Before she could get it under control, her mind wished that one of those keys belonged to her house. She felt hot just thinking about him coming in without her knowing… in the middle of the night.

"You're quite distracting, woman," she heard him say as he walked up the stairs, directly over her head. She wondered if he knew she was there, although it did seem more than obvious. She didn't want to take any chances and she wished that he didn't know, so she remained where she was, not breathing for fear of making any noise.

After Vegeta unlocked the door and walked inside, she had the funny feeling that he really had been talking to himself. She gladly thought that maybe he was making fantasies of her with him, as she had been doing before. But all hopes were shattered when he came back out and sat on the wood stair directly above where her face was.

"What do you want now?" he asked, turning his head and looking straight down at her. Bulma froze. "Yes, I can see you," he said, rolling his eyes. "You really don't think it's possible to hide from a Saiyan, do you?"

Bulma just shook her head very slowly, staring up at him.

"Are you going to come out any time soon?" he asked, and Bulma had the faint feeling that he was making fun of her. She pinched her lips together in a mix of strong irritation and even stronger embarrassment. She knew her face must have been the color of a tomato. Bulma crawled along the side of the wooden board that Vegeta was sitting on and pushed herself through until she was sitting next to him. She helplessly wondered if her face could become even redder than a tomato.

"Sorry," she decided to blurt out, but instantly regretted it when Vegeta ignored her and stood up. He headed for the door. "Hey," Bulma called, not wanting him to lock the door on her again.

He turned to face her. She was glad that a smirk was on his face instead of a frown. "What is it?"

"I'm here because I left my purse here this morning. Can I have it back?"

"You're asking me?" he asked, apparently amused by the question. He turned the knob on the door and pushed it open. He didn't go inside.

"What's so funny?" she asked, watching him softly chuckle at her.

"Well, I just supposed that you would come and get it. Why would you ask me if you can have it back? I never took it from you in the first place. And what would you have done if I told you that you couldn't have it back?"

"I'd do the same thing you did when I told you not to come in my house," she replied heatedly.

"You never said that," he replied matter-of-factly, sarcastically flourishing a hand for her to come inside. Bulma ignored his comment, knowing that he was correct in his statement, and entered the house. She peered around the untarnished living room and kitchen. Chichi must have finished cleaning up after Bulma left earlier in the morning. The house was completely spotless. It was as if Bulma was in an overly-clean grandma-house. Old people always had a knack for keeping their houses clean. Well, the ones Bulma knew at least.

"It's upstairs," Vegeta said when Bulma didn't move through the door way. She walked forward, allowing Vegeta into the house as well. He shut the door behind him and Bulma felt herself get significantly hotter. She was very aware that they were the only people in the house. They were probably the only people for a good mile all the way around the perimeter, knowing that Chichi's home was secluded by thick masses of woods and undisturbed farms.

Bulma walked to the stairs and began the climb. She violently shook her head when the thought of climbing took on a whole new meaning. Vegeta was right behind her, sighing. She guessed it was because she was moving so slow. But then again, the sigh sounded amused. She hoped that his Saiyan 'abilities' didn't allow him to know the physical things that happened to her body when he was around. His amused sigh managed to make her face get red again, and she wished with all her heart that it wasn't because of her that he was making those noises.

"And the bathroom's on your right," he said smugly. Bulma almost fainted. Was that his way of telling her that he knew the effects he had on her? "Don't be embarrassed," he added, but his smug tone was still there.

"I don't need a bathroom," she said, heading for Chichi's bedroom. "I just came for my purse, remember?" She sounded convincing, but she knew that it wasn't enough. He knew, and now she knew that he knew. She wouldn't have been shocked in the slightest if she had truly fainted on the spot. All she wanted now was to leave.

"Right," he shrugged, smirking for a second and then following her into the bedroom. Bulma was aware of his presence at all times. He never took his burning eyes off of her back as she reached for her purse. He preyed on her like a hawk to a rabbit. She even felt like a piece of meat, and he was the lion, ready to pounce. She thought of her parent's teaching her, "don't play with your food," but it didn't seem all that appropriate for the occasion after a few after-thoughts about telling it to Vegeta. He would have taken it the wrong way. And why was he following her, anyway?!

Bulma stood and turned around, only to come face-to-face with her dream boy. He was about a foot away from her, and when he took one quick step in her direction, she was jolted awake by his very presence. By how close he was. All she had to do was lean forward an inch and there would be no space left between the two of them. But instead, her instincts took over and she backed away a step. Vegeta countered with another step forward. Bulma jumped and backed up until she was against the wall. All her senses were on full alert… But when Vegeta neared her yet again, he wrapped his thick arms around her and chuckled into her hair.

All Bulma's senses went completely numb, as if she had been struck with a needle at the dentist's office before getting a cavity filled, and she suddenly felt very relaxed. But the same feeling, as if she knew the drill was inevitable, washed over her. The numbness and the needle were there to ease the pain, but she knew it would be coming nevertheless. The same feeling came to her as Vegeta gently grabbed her. She didn't move her arms. She didn't respond to his touch, but he didn't seem to care.

"What happened to that dress you were wearing?" he asked lowly, running his lips over her hair. "You know, the lavender one?" Bulma let out a moan as he ran a hand through her thick hair, but stopped herself short when she heard it exit her mouth. Vegeta chuckled. " _Well_?"

"It's… at my house," she replied stupidly. She felt like she had been drugged for interrogation.

Vegeta took in a deep breath through his nose as he ran his face through her hair. "Mmm," he growled seductively, "Ginseng. It's very healthy for your hair," he said, and Bulma dimly remembered Chichi telling her that ginseng had been in the shampoo she used yesterday. "It'll make the color last longer throughout the aging process if you use it often," he added. "Did you know that?"

Bulma slowly shook her head in reply, not wanting to give him the wrong message and remove his lips from caressing through her hair. She felt his fingers gently gripping her sides, his arms crossing behind her back, against the wall. Whatever she was drugged with, it seemed to be getting much stronger every second that she stood there. She felt his tongue swipe over her ear and shuddered, inhaling sharply at the exquisite sensation. His one hand moved to the small of her back, while the other moved up to hold the back of her head.

Vegeta let his body lean against Bulma's for a little while, using the support of the wall to hold them up. "I still want to kill you, you know," he said, and Bulma froze, her body becoming extremely tense. "No," he said softly, running his lips over her ear it what appeared to be an attempt to comfort, "I don't think I could do it anymore." He paused for a moment, thinking about how to explain himself. Bulma was still frozen, but her mind wasn't necessarily telling her to get away. It didn't even recognize that there was a threat present. "I think that if I did it when I first saw you, I would have been able to retain my sanity eventually…" There was another pause and Bulma felt relaxed again as his cool breath reached her neck. It was odd. She would have expected his breath to be hot or warm, but it was cool instead. It was _revitalizing_. "But I couldn't do it now without losing it forever. I doubt that I'll ever even try. I couldn't hurt you now… Not now, no."

Bulma was back to being drugged as Vegeta lifted himself off of her and the wall, and held her close yet again. He returned his face to rustle through her hair. "I can't do it," he whispered, more talking to himself than Bulma. It was as if he didn't believe the words had actually come from his own mouth.

Bulma lifted one hand and reluctantly put it between them, feeling the muscles in his chest rise and fall with his breathing. She moved her hand until she felt his heartbeat. This couldn't be real, she thought. Maybe she really _was_ drugged…

One of Vegeta's hands moved to her waist and Bulma violently jumped, feeling a red-hot volcano aggressively erupt between her legs as she realized that this was certainly no dream. She dropped her purse as the unexpected lust hit her hard. This was honest-to-God reality. She heard herself gasp.

Vegeta grunted softly and pushed away from her. His hands remained on her waist, but his arms were outstretched so he could still touch her. "Now don't do that," he said, chuckling. "I can barely control myself as it is."

Bulma let out a quieter gasp at his annoying abilities. It wasn't fair. "And I don't get to know what you're feeling?" she asked. But all she got was another chuckle as he let go of her and turned to the stairs. Bulma followed after him in a bit of an unnatural rush. _The magnet was back in its place_ , she presumed.

So, she almost bumped into him when he stopped short and turned back around to face her. He spread his arms out as a sort of barricade to the stairs.

"What is it?" she asked, still feeling the aftershock of the erupted volcano. She guessed Vegeta felt it as well from the same smug look on his face from before.

"I know that if a male human holds their bladder, he can damage the prostate gland, making it extremely difficult to get an erection or even become aroused," he said mockingly, making it unmistakably obvious that the same thing could never happen to a _Saiyan_ male. "I doubt you want to know what happens to the human _female_ ," he added with a smirk. Bulma face went tomato-red again. "But I can assure you that it's relatively the same concept with either sex."

Not wanting to meet her eyes with his, she looked away and immediately headed for the bathroom. She heard Vegeta chuckle as she quickly shut the door.

"Don't forget your bag in the bedroom," he called, and made his way down the stairs.


	14. Eight Minutes

**Chapter Thirteen: Eight Minutes**

Bulma stood over her purse for what seemed like an eternity. So many thoughts swirled around her head because of what had just taken place. Was that just Vegeta's way of telling her that he was interested in her? Or was he playing with her? Bulma didn't want to be played with. All she knew for sure were her own feelings. All she knew was that she was most certainly interested in Vegeta, but she wasn't quite sure if she wanted him to know that yet.

She also knew that she was standing in Chichi's bedroom for God knew how long, and Vegeta was downstairs. With the thought of him standing there, probably waiting for her to descend the stairs, made her heart beat faster. She tried not to think of it for that very reason, also knowing that he could probably feel her heartbeat from a mile away. In fact, she had no idea what the limits to his powers were. She didn't even know what all of his powers were, and what they did.

So, she snatched up her purse and decided to just get it over with. The sooner the better in her point of view.

The loud sound of her feet on the steps made her heart do a backflip, and yet she wondered why. She couldn't actually believe that she could actually sneak by Vegeta and leave his house without him noticing. That was like trying to breath in only carbon dioxide with all the air, and the other elements in it, around her. It just wasn't possible.

"Did you have a good time?" Vegeta called to her, and she melted at the sound of his voice. But then she paused. He was being sarcastic. She sighed and rolled her eyes. _No_ , she didn't have a good time in the _bathroom_. But she wasn't about to give him an answer, especially that one. She was just going to take it as a rhetorical question and get on with her life.

"I guess I'll see you back at school in a couple days," she said, swinging her purse's strap over her shoulder and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, and Bulma thought he sounded as if he was her father, demanding for an answer, instead of just being curious about what she was about to do.

"Home," she said, taking on the apparently proper role of the defiant daughter. "And then the supermarket. Probably Shoprite, since it's the closest. Why?"

"Because it'll take you another hour to get home," he stated, as if he was overly proud of finding the cure for cancer. Bulma mentally rolled her eyes at his extremely overinflated ego.

"Do you have a point to make, or can I leave now?" she asked sardonically.

"Do you want me to give you a ride?" he asked, and, once again, the thought of riding with Vegeta put an undeniable image in her head that stuck and refused to go away. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't want it to go away, but thinking about him in such an obscene way while he was sitting in a chair with a smirk on his face right in front of her was a bit too much for her fragile conscience. She hoped to any omnipotent being that existed wouldn't allow him to be able to read minds.

Luckily, he made no show of knowing her sensually provocative thoughts, and if he did, there was no way to tell. Bulma felt a betrayer sweat drop appear on her forehead.

"That would be great," she replied, pretending that it was the only thing on her mind. She watched Vegeta's smirk grow as he stood. His keys were already in his left hand. Bulma sighed. Of course he knew the answer before she even took the first step down the stairs. It wouldn't be natural for a girl to refuse such an offer. And yet, she was still dazed from back in the bedroom. Maybe he knew her answer because he was a persuasive bastard who liked to screw with people's heads. Bulma shrugged to herself. At this point, he could be the mass murderer that she thought he was before all this happened, and she would still accept a ride home with him.

Before she knew what she was doing as she stepped onto the porch, the familiar jet-black helmet was thrown at her head. She caught it mid-air and scowled at Vegeta. That could have hurt if she hadn't been paying attention in time. He then got on the bike and waited.

She put it on, flattening her hair under it so the loose strands wouldn't go in her face. She walked to the familiar motorcycle and swung a leg over the backside. Instinctively, Bulma wrapped her full arms around his waist and leaned into his back. She knew very well that she would fall off at the speeds he chose if she wasn't holding on tight.

"I'm glad we don't have to go through all that again," he said, and Bulma just smiled, feeling her face heat up at his words and her position on him. "And we're going to the store first because it's more convenient for me. I'll drop you off at your house last, if you don't mind."

Bulma was about to say that she didn't, but Vegeta hit the ignition and the bike roared to life. And then they were moving, and Bulma noticed that he wasn't going that fast, unlike last time. Maybe it was because he had been in a rush earlier in the day… She sighed to herself. That had only been this _morning_ , but it felt like an eternity ago. Vegeta just had that effect on her, she deduced.

The ride to Shoprite wasn't all that bad. Bulma was in no position to complain, after all. She enjoyed her chance to hold onto Vegeta again. And better yet, she had a valid excuse for gripping his tight abs, so he wouldn't be able to yell at her or tell her to get off. No one would be able to tell her that…

The first thing Bulma saw when they pulled into the parking lot made her eyes pop out of her head. Yamcha was getting out of a red Ford Mustang. But that wasn't even the worst part about it. The worst part about it was that Maron was getting out of the passenger's seat with a slutty dress on that looked like it was made for a five year old girl. It left barely anything to the imagination.

"You know what?" Bulma said, pulling on Vegeta's tight sleeve as he parked his motorcycle. "I don't really need anything here. We can leave now. I was just joking. We don't have to be here, really." She forced a smile to try and sound convincing as they stepped down to the ground.

"You hate her as much as I do," he said, not having to look to see the cause of Bulma's sudden distress. It wasn't a question. Bulma just nodded, not wanting to disagree, but knowing that it probably wasn't possible for anyone to hate someone as much as Vegeta hated Maron. She probably didn't hate anyone in the world as much as that. Well, not yet at least…

"Bulma? Is that you?" Yamcha called, and Bulma cursed him in her head. Maron turned at the sound of Bulma's name and smirked when she saw the aqua-haired girl in the parking lot. She folded her arms and tilted her head in a manner that Bulma didn't quite like. But as Maron came closer, her smirk swiftly faded and was replaced with an unbelievable scowl. Bulma felt a light bulb turn on over her head as she followed Maron's gaze to Vegeta's god-like form standing directly behind her. Then her light bulb flickered and died as she realized that he was literally standing _directly_ behind her, with barely three inches between them. She could feel him close to her without the need of them actually touching.

"Well, well, well…" Maron said, uncrossing her arms and walking closer to the two of them. Bulma had to work to make herself remain unfrozen. She tried to look relaxed, but realized that she wasn't going to be able to make herself look as calm as Vegeta, so she just gave up entirely.

"Bulma!" Yamcha called, and she instantly felt jealous of his innocence and immaturity on the triangle of Maron-Vegeta-Bulma. She wished she could be that naïve for just a few minutes until Maron went away.

But then, Vegeta stepped in front of her. She jumped slightly at the lessening of the three inches between them.

"What do you want?" he asked, a bored edge to his tone as Maron came to a halt in front of him. Bulma's face went red as she pushed her overflowing chest into him. Her heart skipped an angry beat because she was touching the bottom of his ribcage with her revealing chest. Vegeta didn't even move. Bulma wanted to slap him.

"What are you doing with such a whore?" Maron asked, pointing to Bulma. Bulma made to use her ingenious mind and skills to come up with a comeback for the aquamarine, but Vegeta beat her to it.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied heatedly, clearly annoyed. Yamcha's brow creased as he realized he had just been insulted, and Bulma felt a bit bad. She hoped he didn't turn on her later or blame her for it because she was with Vegeta now. "But instead, I'm wondering why you see Bulma or I in any situation or scenario, and you feel the need to walk over to one of us." Bulma's heart melted when the word "us" crossed his lips in front of his biggest _fan_. "Why can't you just walk by and get on with your pathetic excuse for a life? Is it really that horrible without me?" Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but Maron didn't get the message. Bulma's face went even redder at her stupidity. He was insulting her!

"Have you finally realized that, Vegeta?" she asked, a hopeful tone in her voice. "Do you finally understand why I care so much about you? I want you by my side forever and—"

"Whoa, wait a minute," Yamcha interrupted, and all eyes were on him as he took a commanding step forward, non-casually greeting them all. "Maron, what are you talking about? Didn't you just ask me out or did I miss something? You just said that you want _this_ guy by your side forever."

"She's a whore," Vegeta mumbled, "What do you expect? When a female comes around looking for sex, she's obviously not going to want to stay with you. She just needs a little—"

"Excuse me?" Maron guffawed. "I am _not_ a whore! And how dare you say such a thing about me!"

"You obviously are a whore," Vegeta said, not wanting to make the conversation last any longer than necessary. "If you still think that I'm interested in you after I called you a whore, then you have mental and emotional problems. I'm not going to _mate_ with you. Get it through your thick skull already, will you? Human females are revolting."

"I'm not interested in you, Vegeta!" Maron backfired, "And I never will be. Go fall asleep and dream about me somewhere in that tiny brain of yours while me and _my_ man go spend some quality time together." She then took Yamcha by the arm, who had a look on his face that said he was angry with Vegeta for insulting his new _girlfriend_. Bulma wanted to barf. She had the horrible feeling that this wasn't over, but that something big and annoyingly time-consuming was just about to begin. "And I didn't come over here to talk to a scumbag like you. I just wanted to remind Bulma of our agreement. You remember, don't you?" she mocked, turning her glare on Bulma.

Yamcha's face instantly became confused as his eyes wandered to Bulma's face. She noticed everything happen quickly, but surely. Yamcha's confusion was only the first part. Maron's snicker was the last thing on her mind. The one thing that she noticed was a sharp turn of Vegeta's head as he analyzed both her and Maron's expressions as if he had all the time in the world to do so. The look on his face wasn't confusion or anger. It was blank. Expressionless. Like a white sheet of paper. There was nothing there. Bulma found it odd. It was as if he took information in and stored it for later use, like a machine. She expected him to wonder what Maron was talking about, but he didn't. Sometimes she wondered if he knew everything about her. If he knew everything about everyone in the universe.

"No one wants me on their bad side," she called, heading towards the entrance to the supermarket, "and you two are about to find out why." And then she was out of sight, the glass automatic double doors shutting behind her and Yamcha.

Vegeta moved as if nothing had happened. He stepped towards her and put out his hand.

"What?" Bulma asked, a little shaken.

"The helmet," he said, as if it was more obvious than gravity. He shook his outstretched hand in waiting.

"Oh," Bulma muttered, unfastening the strap and tugging it off. She knew her hair looked like a mess as she handed the black helmet to Vegeta. If he minded, he didn't say anything, but she ran her fingers through it a few times anyway for her own sake. Vegeta refastened the strap over the handlebars of the bike and headed for the entrance that Maron and Yamcha had disappeared through.

Then, realization struck her hard. Maron had asked Yamcha _out_. So, they were now _dating_ … Why would Yamcha want to go out with a slut like Maron? He seemed like a smart enough guy. She would have guessed that he would have started heading for the hills when he saw what she was wearing. And, then again, why would Maron want to go out with a boy like Yamcha? It was clear as day that he wasn't the most popular boy in school, as nice as he was. The only thing Bulma could think of was that she wanted him for his money. He must have more than the average person if he can afford to own a red Mustang as a junior in high school. But that didn't seem logical at all. Maron had money. And there were other boys who had more money than Yamcha that were higher up on the food chain. What was going on?

"Are you coming or do you want me to run you over when I leave without you?" Bulma came-to at the threat on her life and looked over at the mysterious prince of an alien race come to destroy all the humans. "Do you remember why we're here?" he asked sarcastically, getting annoyed and impatient. "I don't need anything. I've got dinner for the next few days back at home. I'm here out of courtesy. And that goes for my bike as well. We can leave whenever we please."

"Sorry," Bulma said, running to catch up with him. "And stop being such a jerk, will you?"

"Just get what you need so I can get out of here."

Bulma nodded hotly and grabbed a cart, throwing a quarter into the slot and hurrying into the store. She tried to look attractive as she walked, but knew that it wasn't going to work in the jeans she was wearing. In all honesty, she wore a loose pair because she planned on walking so much. She hadn't expected a ride from her dream boy. And the baggy pants on her behind proved that much.

Bulma paused when she realized that she wasn't being followed. "Are you coming?" she dared to ask, not wanting to be left alone with a couple bags of food. Her arms would most likely fall off before she returned home. Not to mention the darkness after the nearing sunset.

"I don't want to run into anyone… familiar," he said, folding his arms and leaning his back up against the brick wall next to the exit. Bulma guessed he meant Maron and Yamcha. "I'll wait out here. You have eight minutes before I leave." She rolled her eyes, but nodded when his face turned serious on her. She wondered whether or not he'd actually leave her alone for being in the store for eight and a half minutes…

"Sure. I don't want to miss the angry bus on its last trip to my house," she mumbled, flinching when he responded. She had to get used to his inhuman abilities or she was going to get herself in trouble.

"It's not the last, woman. Trust me," he said in a correcting tone. Bulma blushed and ran into the store with her cart ahead of her, hoping he hadn't noticed that part, but knowing that he probably did anyway.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

After Bulma had enough food for a few days, she headed for the checkout counters. She knew that Vegeta's bike wasn't big enough for more than a couple bags, so she had limited herself to only a few options for her meals for the rest of the week or so.

Luckily, she had managed to avoid Maron and Yamcha. She had seen them, and they had seen her, but it was never at the same time, and she made sure to change aisles every minute or two. She knew that her eight minutes had been abused and demolished, but Vegeta wouldn't leave her alone with her house so far away, so she felt anodyne about her neglected overtime. After reaching the conclusion that he wouldn't have offered to give her a ride just to piss her off, she felt safer about her overtime.

"Bulma?" a voice called, and she paused. She turned, hoping dearly that it wasn't Yamcha and his newfound _toy_. It might take a while for her to get used to the idea of Maron and Yamcha together. It just didn't seem _natural_ … Almost _forced_. A big part of her was a little pissed at Yamcha for doing something so thoughtless and stupid.

"I see you went back for your purse," another voice said, "I saw it on my bed this morning after you left. I was going to call you, but your cellphone rang from up in my bedroom. I figured you'd just come back and get it yourself." It was Chichi. Bulma looked around and found her behind one of the registers.

"But we don't have a spare key because we all hold one." That was Goku. Bulma looked around and found him behind another register to Chichi's left. "So that means that Vegeta let you in. Where is he, anyway?"

"Outside," Bulma said quickly, placing her items on the counter in front of Chichi. "This is where you guys work?" she asked. "You're cashiers. That wasn't what I expected."

She received simultaneous shrugs from both of them. Chichi rang up her items as she spoke, taking it slow on purpose. "He didn't want to have to look at our faces, right?" she asked jokingly and Goku laughed, tending to another customer. Bulma checked behind her to find no one in line. She sighed with relief, but then whirled on the black-haired girl.

"What was this morning all about?" she asked heatedly, trying to keep her fire, but letting it go. It burned out a while ago anyway.

"I told you we had a surprise for you, didn't I?" she shrugged absentmindedly. She looked like a little girl being scolded. Bulma couldn't help but let all her anger go.

"Don't involve me in this," Goku called to his girlfriend, "I just came up with the whole thing. You were the one who decided to carry it out for real."

"What's the _whole thing_?" Bulma asked, and Goku looked down, pretending to be doing something important as he waited for his customer to swipe their credit card. Bulma turned her eyes on Chichi, expecting an answer.

"Well…" the girl said, at a loss for words, "I _am_ a perfect match-maker. Or so I've been told…"

"What in the world is that supposed to mean?" Bulma asked, tilting her head to the right in misunderstanding. Of course her mind registered matchmaker with her and Vegeta, but she wasn't about to admit that to herself, much less Chichi.

"Let's just say that Vegeta isn't you're average guy. He's one-of-a-kind, so to say… even if it isn't a good thing. So when he took an interest in you, we were kind of shocked."

"I told you not to involve me in this," Goku whined, and Chichi waggled a finger at him as if to silence him.

"Goku said that we should see what happens when we get you two together—"

"Chichi!—"

"And that was when you called us and told me that Vegeta was trying to kill you. Before the party, you know. We decided that a one-of-a-kind person like Vegeta could only take an interest in a one-of-a-kind girl. That's _you_. So, I took Goku's idea of getting you two together and carried it out, so to speak. This morning was stage one of our plan." She smiled and Bulma's face went cherry pink in embarrassment.

"What were you thinking?! He wanted to kill me this _morning_! You weren't getting us together, Chichi. You were making me _piss my pants_."

"First of all, he obviously doesn't want to kill you. That goes for this morning as well as yesterday afternoon. Trust me when I say that if Vegeta wanted you dead, you would most certainly be dead. But then again, Maron's still alive…"

"What are you talking about?" Bulma asked, losing the black-haired girl again.

"We have some time, so listen. Believe it or not, Vegeta is kind of old-fashioned. He doesn't want to kill anyone either. His pride and arrogance just gets in the way most of the time."

"I think you mean _all_ the time," Goku called, correcting Chichi. She just laughed, not really hearing him as a line began forming behind Bulma.

"There goes our time. I think I jinxed it by accident. Tell him we said hello, as little good as it'll do, okay?" Bulma grabbed her money out of her purse and handed it to Chichi

"Sure."

"Oh, and check your mail when you get home. Goku and I got our new schedules for school yesterday, so you might get yours today if you haven't already." She handed Bulma her change and the receipt.

"No, I haven't. But I'll check. Thanks for reminding me."

"No problem. And stage one was only a piece of our plan. Wait until you see what's coming next, Bulma. You'll love us for it. I know you will." Bulma rolled her eyes, trying not to let her curiosity break forth. "Oh, and tell Vegeta not to eat until we get home, too. Thanks." Bulma nodded as she shoved her money into her pocket and snatched up her two bags. She waved as she headed out the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yamcha. She let herself slow to a deliberately dawdling walk. Then, seeing Maron notice her, she turned. But not before their eyes locked. Bulma regretted it, but she was the one who lost confidence and broke away. She gripped her bags and headed out the sliding glass double doors, her face bright red.

"You're late," Vegeta said, walking fast at her side as soon as the fresh air entered her lungs. "That was more than eight minutes, woman, and you know it." He picked up his pace so she would do the same, but she stayed at the same speed. She could almost feel his annoyance with her, but she knew he's get over it eventually. Every time she was around him, she would be reminded of his closeness back at Chichi's house. She remembered his breath on her neck and how it had been cool and refreshing instead of hot and sticky. It had been pure bliss.

"What are you in such a rush for anyway?" Bulma asked hotly, noticing how he hadn't offered to carry one of her bags. Preferably the heavier one. "Where do you need to be that's so important, huh? And I thought I told you to stop being a jerk."

"Nowhere," he said complacently, ignoring her last statement, "I just don't want to be _here_."

"Chichi and Goku said hello, by the way. And Chichi said not to eat until they get home," Bulma said, remembering the messages that she was supposed to deliver to him. "I hope they aren't the reason you want to leave. You should try to be nice once in a while. Maybe you should go to counseling or something."

An image of Maron suddenly entered her mind as she remembered how they had just locked eyes and she shuddered. The look that had been thrown her way had been like ice itself. What was going to happen? What was Maron planning on doing to her? To Vegeta? Bulma wished that Maron would just disappear and never bother her or Vegeta ever again. But even she knew that wishing only made things worse…

"Whatever." Vegeta grabbed the black helmet and shoved it at her chest. Bulma scowled at him before making a dramatic show of taking her time with setting her bags down to adjust the strap under her chin and then delicately picking the bags back up into her arms.

"What do you want me to do with these—"

The bags were snatched from her hands. "Get on already, will you? This isn't a _lounge_." His tone was demanding, but Bulma noticed that it had taken on a softer edge. Her thoughts wandered to what Chichi had told her back in the store.

She swung a leg over the side of the bike. The lighter of her two bags was thrown onto her lap while the other remained on Vegeta's. He adjusted his position and started the engine. Bulma wrapped her arms around his waist and mentally sighed at the low rumble. It sounded so familiar, as if she was destined to hear it whenever she was with Vegeta. It was like she had heard it a million times before.

She could have stayed like that forever. The reverberation of the bike was ever-so-slightly grinding her body into his, and Bulma felt her heart speed up.

Whatever Chichi's plan was, she was beginning to think that it might turn out to be exciting…


	15. Surprise, Surprise

**Hey everyone! Here's a special shout-out to Jiitari, who drew the beautiful cover art for this story! **

**Please check her out and give her some love, guys! Her art is amazing! xDD**

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 **Chapter Fourteen: Surprise, Surprise**

After Bulma had been delivered to her home and Vegeta had made his dramatic departure, the aqua-haired girl had put away her food and had taken the rest of her weekend off to just kick back her feet and relax. Her new schedule for school had come Saturday afternoon and she found out that she had all the same classes with all the same teachers. Other papers that had come in the same package described that parts of the school were unfit for class time, so trailers had been moved into the school parking lots. They were numbered, and unfortunately for Bulma, a lot of her classes had been in the section of the school were the roof had caved in from the fire. So she was going to be stuck in some trailers with no windows for most of her day.

The good part about all this was the fact that only the classes' areas had changes. Everyone's schedules had remained the same, so she still had first period English with Vegeta. She sighed just thinking about him.

Bulma looked over at her clock. School started in less than a half an hour and she was already prepared. She quietly congratulated herself as she took her time gathering her things and walking out the door to her small white car.

Maron hadn't left her mind for the entire weekend. Ever since the supermarket incident, Maron had been at the forefront of Bulma's thoughts. What did that bitch have planned? And Yamcha was in her thoughts as well. What would be so important to him that he would date such a slut? And it was no excuse that he didn't know. Of course he knew! Maron's slutty-ness was as bright as the sun. There wasn't a single person in school who didn't know that. Yamcha included.

Whatever was going to happen, Bulma knew she could handle it. Maron couldn't scare her away ever again. She was going to fight back, no matter what it took. It seemed girly, but she would die before she ever let Maron get her overused fingers on her man. Her claws could never dig into him while she was around.

She felt silly for feeling so protective of Vegeta since he was from an alien species capable of destroying planets and killing entire populations in one fell swoop. But then she realized that she wasn't just protective of Vegeta. She was protective of both of them. She was protective of them staying together.

But then she remembered that he hadn't even kissed her. There was no "Bulma and Vegeta", despite what she wanted to believe. Chichi's plan might work, but for all she knew, it might not. Another part of her didn't like the idea of Chichi and Goku trying to get Vegeta to go out with her. She felt like she was taking advantage of him. it wouldn't seem right if he went out with her because he was tricked into it… But if he liked her… then he liked her, right? There couldn't be any tricks in that. But she feared what he would think if he ever found out that she actually agreed with what they were trying to do. She mentally shrugged. _Maybe he'll get turned on by how much I like him_ , she thought hopefully.

Locking the door behind her and making her way to her white car, Bulma thanked herself for not losing her purse a _second_ time. She was now in possession of her house keys, her car keys, her cash, her credit cards, and her cell phone. That was the way it was supposed to be.

Sunday had brought with it a little surprise for her. Apparently, while she was busy, Vegeta had made time to give her his number. The funny part was that he had put himself as her number-one emergency contact in her cell phone. And that was one _above_ her parents. It had been sweet of him, but if there really was an emergency and she hadn't seen it in time to switch it back to her parents after seeing it Sunday night, Vegeta would have really been called instead. It seemed like a serious thing to do, and her heart fluttered when she saw it, but she couldn't help but believe that he had actually been serious. He acted like a prideful jerk all the time, but there was always something different that made her confused. Finding his number in her cell had been one of those moments… Maybe she wouldn't need Chichi after all.

She started up her car as she threw her bags into the passenger seat next to her. A couple of books fell out of her bag onto the floor, but she ignored them and pulled out of her driveway.

Almost instantly, an image of her parents entered her mind. She hadn't heard from them in a while. It had only been a bit more than a week, but they didn't call her. Not even once. She knew they were probably worrying about her, physically _and_ emotionally. But they were definitely busy with work and they knew she could handle herself. Plus, if something was wrong, she would call them right away. They knew that. But still, she had never been away from them for so long in her entire life. She had seen her parents every day since she was born. Not a day went by without her seeing them… She felt a bit lonely, but she had friends here that would take care of her if she needed anything. And she was currently working on her first boyfriend. Bulma flirtatiously purred to herself as she pulled into the school parking lot.

The first things she saw were the trailers. There were almost twenty of them and the sign that before had read "no parking on the grass" had been ripped out of the ground and replaced with an enormous orange arrow that read "parking, this way."

She parked her small car on the grass next to a green minivan, feeling sorry for whoever had been forced to drive it to school. She got out of her car and looked around. She was early. There were barely any other cars in the parking lot. She looked at her phone and found that school didn't start for another twenty minutes. Most people tended to arrive in the last ten.

Bulma shrugged and moved over to the opposite side of the car. Opening the passenger side door, the two books that had fallen on the floor of the car before she left tumbled out and onto the grass. She sighed and picked them up, shoving them back into her bag and swinging the strap over her head to rest on her shoulder. She took a final glance at herself. She was wearing her traditional blue jeans and brown sneakers. But today, she dared to wear a low-cut V-neck. Bulma sighed again. She was so lame when it came to clothes. Maybe she could ask Chichi for some help. Her dress had really been something, and the black-haired girl had the best fashion taste in school attire.

Bulma made her way to the parking lot and noticed rust on the hinges to the doors on the trailers. She made a disgusted face and continued to Orange High's front doors. _What a cheap school_ , she thought to herself.

She pushed the front double-doors open and made her way to the cafeteria, sitting at a table in the back of the quiet and empty room. She could almost _feel_ the ticking of the clock as it took its glorious time in passing. Getting creeped out and bored by the silence, she stood back up, replacing her bag on her left shoulder and her purse's strap over the top of it.

Bulma exited the cafeteria and wandered around the hallways in search of something to do. She passed by a few teachers who looked as if they had just arrived, but they didn't even say "hello" or "good morning" to her. She thought about Vegeta for a couple minutes. She thought about his hair and his face. She remembered his voice. She could almost hear it if she really focused. Her thoughts came to a halt as she wondered about her dream boy. Was this just a normal high school crush? Her mother had happily warned her about the infamous "puppy-love" that occurred with a lot of high school students. Bulma couldn't imagine herself ever forgetting about Vegeta, even if they parted and never saw each other again for the rest of their lives. She couldn't imagine not thinking about him or taking wonderful refuge inside her head, where he was always waiting with his trademark smirk of his. She could picture him so clearly. She knew this was more than a crush, but her mother had told her that it would feel this way at first.

Bulma's thoughts came to another abrupt halt as she rounded a corner into the longest hallway in the school. Half the roof was caved-in and yellow police tape blocked off entrance to anyone passing by. The fire really had done a number on the school, she realized with bewilderment. She would be the one to know, since she was stuck in it, but half the hallway was torn to bits. She could feel the crisp morning air from outside coming into the building from the gaping hole that used to be the ceiling. It was incredible.

And then she heard a noise that made the hairs on her arms stand upright on her forearms. It wasn't a frightening sound, but Bulma was certainly frightened by it. She knew that voice.

Maron.

It sounded as if the devil himself had risen up into the underworld to drag her down into the fiery pits of hell. And yet, it still wasn't a scary sound. It sounded like she was enjoying herself. It was disgusting in so many ways, but Bulma's curiosity was too much to bear. She followed the noise into another hallway and realized that it was coming from the girls' bathroom.

She paused before entering. Maron was making different noises now. They were _pleading_. As if she needed help. As if someone was hurting her. Bulma tiptoed into the bathroom. A large tile wall separated the entrance from the stalls and another wall blocked the sink from view. Bulma rounded the first corner to come into view of the stalls and froze. Beneath one of the stall doors was a pair of thin, shaved legs. And at the bottom of those legs was a pulled-down pair of underwear. Another pair of legs came into sight. They were bear and a loose pair of jeans was thrown over the stall doors as a man's laugh could be heard. Bulma shoved her hands over her mouth so as not to scream when she heard Maron giggle. It sounded evil in so many ways.

" _Oh_!" Maron gasped suddenly, her legs jerking forward, and Bulma pressed her hands harder against her mouth. She felt like her lungs would burst if she let herself go. She wanted so badly to scream. Maron kicked off her underwear as she yelped another gasp. "Oh, _Yamcha_ ," she purred, and Bulma almost screamed through her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would make the scene laid out before her go away. This was sick. This was worse than sick. It was repulsive. What a man-whore Yamcha was. Bulma felt angrier at Yamcha than shocked at what was going on in the girls' bathroom right before school started.

All her life, Bulma had thought of making love as something you did with the person you loved more than life itself. This was no such thing. Maron made her _sick_. And Yamcha was no better in her eyes now. She was glad she finally figured out who he really was. She was happy she wouldn't have to find out later in a worse way.

Not daring to stay any longer, for fear she would either throw up and be sick for the rest of the day, or scream and get caught watching, she left the bathroom in a rush. She dashed back into the hallway, not believing that she had actually seen what she had seen. It seemed so distant from anything she'd ever thought of that it almost seemed unreal.

She adjusted the straps on her shoulder and walked back to the cafeteria. Sitting down in the empty room seemed a lot nicer now that she was back. She felt safe in the large, quiet room. It had been unsettling before, but now it felt like the best place in the world. She knew she'd rather be here than some other places that came to mind. Bulma shuddered, knowing very well that the images she had just witnessed would take a while to rid themselves from her mind. It was all so vivid, but she didn't even want to think about it. And yet she couldn't help it.

Instead, she focused her thoughts on Vegeta. She focused on his face and that smirk that she loved so much. But thinking about Vegeta as well as Maron and Yamcha in the girls' bathroom made different images come to mind. She could feel heat between her legs.

Breathing harder than usual for just sitting down, Bulma jumped up from her seat and began pacing around her table. And then, she felt eyes on her. Someone had entered the cafeteria.

"Well, if it isn't the new girl," a boy's voice called and Bulma looked up to find Sharpner walking towards her. "Why are you here so early, huh?" The edge in his voice revealed that he wasn't all that happy about being beaten up by a girl during Chichi's party. Of course, he had no idea that 18 was actually an android. Bulma wasn't even quite sure if that was the truth or not.

"I had an easy weekend," Bulma said with an attitude. There was no way she was going to tolerate Sharpner's crap this morning. "I slept a lot, so I woke up early. And it isn't actually that early. School starts in about fifteen minutes anyway. The teachers have already arrived—"

"Why do you hang out with Vegeta so much? What's he got to offer anyway?" Sharpner interrupted rudely.

"Excuse me?" Bulma asked out of shock. She had heard his questions loud and clear.

"I mean, don't you know that a real man wouldn't come to a party with a cheap whore like Maron. That must have been rough on you, wasn't it? And then to find out that they got drunk together… What a shame, right? And I can't believe you, Bulma. I thought you were smarter than that. He saw right through you. And I saw him through Maron's window while coming to the party on Friday night. You wouldn't have been able to guess the things he was doing with that bitch. If you ask me, I think you'd be better off without a man like that in your life."

"You must be joking. Vegeta told me that he made a deal with Maron."

"And what? He's a _man-of-honor_? He likes to keep to his word, is _that_ it? That _bullshit,_ Bulma. He told you that crap just so you wouldn't find out that what he really wanted was some _alone-time_ with Maron. Everyone knows that if you're in need of sex, _Maron's_ your girl. I can't believe you didn't know that, Bulma. Really, I thought you were smarter than that."

"Go away Sharpner. You're wasting my time. If anything's bullshit around here, then it's you. _Not_ Vegeta." Bulma crossed her arms and sat back down, figuring that she was done pacing around the lunch room for a while.

"Seriously, Bulma," Sharpner added, turning to walk away, "I'm not trying to make you upset. I just don't want you to get hurt." And then he walked out of the room, leaving Bulma in silence once again.

Bulma sat there, thoughts swirling around in her head. Of course Sharpner was lying. Chichi had told her that Sharpner and Vegeta hated each other. So, of course he would try and get her to stay away from him. The only thing he just proved was that he liked her. He obviously wanted her all to himself. There was no other explanation for it. If he had a problem with Vegeta, then he should go take it up with Vegeta. She didn't want to be involved in all their fights. It would only lead to more trouble for _her_.

Plus, if Vegeta liked Maron, then he wouldn't have been so mean to her back at the supermarket. He wouldn't have told her to leave in so many words. Vegeta liking Maron was absurd. He wouldn't even want to have sex with her. It wouldn't have been worth it. Even Chichi and Goku knew how much Vegeta hated that girl. Ever since that party with the push-ups, as Chichi had described it to her. Vegeta wanted nothing to do with Maron… But then why was she trying to convince herself that Sharpner was lying if she already knew it was true…?

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma checked her new schedule over one last time before putting it away in her purse. She put it on the top for easy access. The first bell rang and she headed for the outside parking lot. Her first period class was in the trailer park of a classroom. She had English class with Mr. Piccolo in trailer number four.

Making her way through the crowds of people trying to find their way around the new area, Bulma found trailer numbers one, two and three. Taking a couple more steps, she came face-to face with a door labeled "4", with a big painted number on the front. It was impossible to miss.

She opened the door and stepped inside. As if a miracle had just happened, the only people in the room were Mr. Piccolo and Vegeta, who had taken a seat in the far right corner of the room. Bulma adjusted her straps even though they didn't need to be and headed towards the seat to his right. To Vegeta's left was a wall, so she would have him all to herself. She mentally giggled.

"Hey," she said, placing her bags on the floor and preparing to sit down. "I can't believe we're actually having our classes in trailers. It seems sort of shabby, doesn't it?"

There was no response. Vegeta didn't even turn his head to look at her. Was he mad about something? Had she done something wrong? Bulma looked down to make sure her shirt wasn't inside-out or if she had forgotten to put on pants this morning.

"Vegeta? Hello, anybody home?"

"Ms. Briefs," Mr. Piccolo said loudly, making Bulma jump. She'd almost forgotten about him standing right there at his new desk. It was way too small for him and Bulma had to force herself not to laugh. He was definitely too tall to live in a trailer, she mentally joked with herself. "Could you please take your seat and stop bothering Mr. Ouji? Class begins in one minute, and I will not have arguing or talking during then. I'm not in a very good mood about having to teach you good-for-nothing students in a cramped space such as this. So, you'd better be prepared to behave. I give no special treatment to smart students in my class. If you're truly smart, then I won't have to." And then he looked back down at his paperwork.

Bulma exhaled a held breath and quickly sat down, forgetting all about Vegeta's rudeness. She noticed that more people had entered the trailer during Mr. Piccolo's rant when he turned his awful mood on her. More students were entering the classroom and Bulma noticed one girl looked familiar. She was the orange haired girl from the party. She had been upstairs, involved in the fight. Racking through her memory, she remembered Vegeta telling her that the girl's name was Angela. She had gotten the worst grade in the class for their pop quiz on the first day of school. But that wasn't how Bulma remembered her the best. She remembered her because of the fact that she had been the girl that had almost ripped all her hair out. She had assisted Maron in attempting to take advantage of a drunken Vegeta in his dulled state. That made her hate the girl more than anything else in the world at that moment.

"When did you get here?" Vegeta asked, turning to her. Bulma almost fell over at the unwarranted question. She looked over at him and realized that he was rubbing his eyes.

"Didn't get enough sleep last night?" she speculated. He must have been dazing out when she had tried to gain his attention before. A small part of her hurt to see him like that. And by "like that" she meant _not perfect_ , like he usually was in her eyes. She instantly wanted to know what the cause of his tiredness was, and she wanted to beat it to a bloody pulp without hesitation for him.

Bulma hit the pause button on her thoughts. Maybe she was taking this liking-Vegeta thing way out of proportion. But she couldn't help the way she felt. She hoped she wasn't being obsessive. And she hoped dearly that _he_ didn't think she was.

Vegeta didn't respond to her. He wiped his eyes again and turned forward as the classroom was finally filled up. There were absolutely no seats remaining by the time everyone had arrived and sat down. Luckily, no one was left standing.

"All right, you maggots," Mr. Piccolo said in a bored tone, tapping the whiteboard in the front of the trailer. It was actually the side of the trailer, but it didn't matter all that much. "Pay attention. As a class, your average grade is horrible. You should be embarrassed. I told you when this class started that you needed to take notes and study. Why you aren't doing what I told you to do, I have _no_ idea. It's such a simple task to follow. It isn't like you have anything _better_ to do with your lives."

Groans and moans could be heard from almost every student. Bulma knew that she and Vegeta were probably the only students holding their own with an A and an A+ average. She still had to smile when knowing that her grade was a point or two higher than Vegeta's. _And I thought he was supposed to be_ better _than humans_ , she thought egotistically.

"But thankfully, it's only been one week and you all still have a good chance of bringing your class average up to at least a C-. But you have to stop slacking on your studies or I guarantee you'll fail my class. Do you understand? Any questions?" No one raised their hand or even attempted to answer his question. " _Good_ ," Mr. Piccolo said forcefully, walking over to take his seat at his super-small desk. Bulma heard a couple people giggle as they watched him try to sit down. He succeeded eventually, but it was still enjoyable to watch.

"Are you okay?" Bulma asked, noticing Vegeta start to nod off out of the corner of her eye. She jumped when his eyes slowly slid shut and his head hit the desk in front of him. "Ve _ge_ ta!" she softly cried, placing her hands on his shoulders. People around them stopped to watch the show. Girls, especially. Bulma felt her face get red and hot.

"Get _off_ me, woman. I can handle myself," he whispered, lifting his head as his eyes slipped open at the cry of his name. Bulma sighed when his arrogant tone came back, proving that he was more than fine.

"What happened to you?" she asked under her breath, wishing that people would stop straining their ears to hear what she was saying.

"I got kicked out," he said flatly, rubbing his forehead and trying to cover up the freshly-made dent in his desk with his right arm.

"Kicked out?" Bulma repeated stupidly, lifting an eyebrow at his answer. "By who?"

"Who do you _think_? Kakarot and his filthy _raven_."

"They kicked you out of her house?"

"I would appreciate it if you'd stop repeating everything I say."

"So you didn't have a place to sleep? Is that why you're so tired?"

"What's wrong with you? Can't you say anything useful for once in your life? If you can't, then you should just shut up. You're annoying me, woman." He turned his head away from her and Bulma could just feel the stares and glares she was receiving from the other students in the trailer-classroom.

"Does someone need a detention?" Mr. Piccolo asked heatedly, "Get to work on chapter two or I'll start throwing people out of my class. So be quiet and work already!"

Bulma turned to Vegeta again, but he wasn't looking her way. "I know you're grumpy because you're tired, but maybe you should try not to be even _more_ of a jackass to me than usual. How about that, smartass?"

"Why can't you just keep quiet? I'm trying to get some rest." Vegeta placed his arms on his desk and leaned his head forward onto his textbook so it would appear that he was doing his work, ignoring Bulma once again.

"You know I was going to offer for you to stay at my house, but I don't think I'm going to anymore," she said, hoping to gain some of his attention back.

"Good. I'd rather _die_ than stay with you," he spat from under his arms.

Bulma was speechless as she took out her textbook and started her classwork.


	16. Lack of Sleep

**Chapter Fifteen: Lack of Sleep**

Bulma walked to Human Behavior in silence, ignoring the voices all around her. Some were loud and ear-shattering. Others were quiet and soothing. But none of them held what Bulma wanted to hear. None of those voices were Vegeta's. So she walked along, ignoring all of them.

What had gotten into him? Had she done something wrong? If she offended him in some way, she had no idea what she had said to cause him to respond that way to her. And he had no _right_ to act that way towards her.

Bulma sighed. Getting kicked out of her own house by her best friends would certainly make her a little pissed off at the world. Maybe she was overreacting. But still, his last comment had made her feel horrible. Maybe she was being too sensitive about everything he said because of the way she felt about him. It was clear that the feelings weren't mutual. The one thing she did know was that she was going to have a few things to say to Chichi this period. If this was her idea of getting them together, then her plans were going to have to stop. One way or another.

"Bulma, over here!" Chichi called, waving her hand in the air as Bulma entered trailer number seven. She looked excited about something, and Bulma could only imagine why. She walked to a saved seat next to Chichi and placed her bags down carefully, as if she was carrying extremely unstable dynamite with her textbooks. "So, how was your night?" she asked, a sneaky tone to her voice, as if she knew Bulma had done something wrong.

"Excuse me? What are you talking about?" Bulma asked.

"Huh? Didn't Vegeta stop by to say hello?" Chichi seemed honestly confused by her response, as if Bulma was the one who didn't know what was going on.

"No. But he talked to me this morning. He said you and Goku kicked him out of the house last night. Chichi, he looks horrible. I don't think he got any sleep. If this is another part of your crazy plan, then you can stop right there because—"

"But he went to your house," Chichi interrupted. "Goku followed him after I told him to leave. When he came back, he told me he watched Vegeta walk up your driveway and head straight for your front door. And then Goku left. You're telling me that he went to your house and didn't even say hello?"

"I guess so, if Goku's telling the truth."

"Of course he is. Goku never lies about anything. Especially to me. And this part of the plan was my idea, so you can thank me for it."

"There's nothing to thank you for," Bulma said, a bit angry that the black-haired girl wasn't getting the point. "Vegeta may have been at my house last night, but now he's completely mad at me. And to make it all worse, I don't even know what I did wrong."

"Don't you know by now that Vegeta is always mad at somebody, even if they never even looked at him in their entire life? I highly doubt you did anything wrong. He's probably just upset about something else. That arrogant Saiyan likes to take his problems out on the world without any consideration for what could happen when he does."

"But then what's he upset about?" Bulma questioned, hoping she would receive an answer that wouldn't be confusing or anything but to the point.

"Well, Goku and I were talking about some things last night, and one of those things was Vegeta. Mainly, him and you. Goku knows Vegeta better than anyone, and he said that he wants nothing more than to return home… Or, he did. Goku said that you might be screwing with his head a little bit."

"I don't know how. I never did anything to mess with him. I keep to myself most of the time."

"Maybe that's why you have that weird effect on him. Ever since the first day Goku and Vegeta arrived on Earth, all Vegeta wanted was to complete his mission and go home to awaiting applause and recognition. After all, he _is_ the prince of Planet Vegeta. He would be welcomed home with open arms and nobility. But, after I met Goku, he promised me that he wouldn't let that happen. He told Vegeta that he would stop him at all costs if he tried to carry out their purging mission. This, of course, made Vegeta pretty angry. So, last night, when Goku and I were talking, he told me that Vegeta has only stayed here for the past three years, living his life like a normal teenage boy, because he always had the thought in his head that one day, Goku would change his mind and he would able to return home. He's made his point to us that he doesn't really like this planet all too many times and he's always believed that one day, he and Goku would destroy all human life on this planet. That's how you're messing with his head, Bulma."

"That was a nice story and all, Chichi, but I knew most of that. And what does it have to do with me? I never even knew Vegeta up until about a week ago."

"Well, that's what we were discussing yesterday night. Goku has come to the conclusion that Vegeta may have been forced to realize that he doesn't want to kill all humans, because that would have to include you. Bulma, don't you see? Meeting you has taken everything that Vegeta's believed to keep himself going, and thrown it all away. You've made his reasoning for the past three years of his life all _meaningless_. I think he's angry because he's confused. You can't tell me that he doesn't like you, because I've seen you two together and you know it's true."

"Well, isn't that a good thing? I'm stopping him from killing millions of lives, right?"

"Not exactly. Goku is the one who's absolutely forbidding him from laying a hand on any humans, much less kill them. But Vegeta continued on with his prideful life thinking that one day he would be able to carry out his mission anyway. Goku is stronger than Vegeta when it comes to fighting, so… I don't know. Maybe you took all his hope and just… _crushed_ it because he can't believe what he's believed for the past three years. He probably feels trapped. And a trapped Saiyan is never friendly, as we can all see."

"But then, what are we supposed to do about all of this? I don't think that we should try and convince him that he could still kill off the human race. That wouldn't end up with anything good. So what else could we do?"

"I thought about that this morning and came up with a few things. Although, I _was_ under the assumption that he had stayed with you last night. That was our plan for kicking him out, but now that you say he didn't even show himself to you while he was there, it might cause some more problems."

"Like what, Chichi? How could we go from bad to worse after all this?"

"Well, the reason he's angry this morning, if what you said before is true, might be because he in fact _did_ stay at your house last night."

"I don't get it."

"Well, if he stayed outside of your house for the entire night, then he was probably thinking about you. Since you're the reason he's acting funny, no offense, then maybe being around you for the entire night made him angry that you're here."

"I still don't get it," Bulma said. She looked over at the teacher. She was finished with that large book from the first few days of school and now had her nose shoved in a slightly smaller hardcover book. By how intently she was reading, Bulma guessed that they weren't going to do any work for the period, like usual.

"Well, if he isn't around you, I bet he's more likely to think about other things. But he's a Saiyan, so sitting outside your house all night… He could have been analyzing everything you did or felt. And even if he wasn't, he could still sense you, so it would be harder for him not to think about you. Does that make sense?"

"Sure," Bulma said, racking her brain for the things she had done last night. Luckily, it hadn't been anything… _embarrassing_. The thought of Vegeta watching her at any point in time made her uncontrollably let out a sudden shiver. But she couldn't tell if it was out of shock, fear, or delight.

"So, instead of sleeping, he stayed at your house and remained awake. I don't know why he would do that, but it's _Vegeta_ we're talking about here. I mean, I don't know a lot about what goes on in that crazy head of his. But the point is that being tired and having you on his mind probably made him all touchy this morning. He's easily pissed off, so I wouldn't worry about anything he said to you. He probably regrets saying it right now. Trust me. Goku is a Saiyan, too, so he knows what he's talking about when he tells me that Vegeta has taken a liking to you."

Bulma blushed. "Thanks, Chichi. I know it's corny, but you don't know how much better you just made me feel."

"Any time, girl. You know I'm here for you," she replied, putting on a goofy smile. Bulma rolled her eyes and smirked. "And it looks like we have the rest of the period to take a nap," Chichi added, closing her eyes and stretching out her arms for emphasis.

"Well, I know one thing's for sure."

"What's that?"

"Vegeta isn't invited to my house anymore. Pissed or not, he already turned down my offer, and I'm not going to let that slide."

"But Bulma, that was the plan, wasn't it?"

"Not anymore. I hope he catches on that I'm not like the other girls in this school who would roll over and play fetch for him. I don't care what happened to him. That was no way to treat me."

"But—"

"I'm not changing my mind, Chichi. Don't even try."

"I guess I can understand why you and Vegeta are right for each other. You're more stubborn than he is." Chichi giggled and Bulma couldn't help but let out a laugh. _No one_ was more stubborn than Vegeta.

Bulma took a glance around and saw a couple of girls staring at her with their mouths open. She certainly hoped they weren't listening in on other people's conversations. That might cause some problems if people started asking her what Saiyans were. Or even worse, what Vegeta was doing at her house last night. If Bulma Briefs was trying to avoid anything, it was girl drama. And if people started gossiping about her and Vegeta, then she would be the center of the exact thing she had been trying to avoid. She didn't have to go to high school for very long to realize that drama wasn't something she cared to get involved with.

For the remainder of the period, Chichi laid back into her metal chair and rested her eyes while Bulma continuously went over every insignificant thing she had done during the previous night, thinking about Vegeta watching her the entire time.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Math class passed by in a painfully slow manner. Mostly because Bulma was trying to avoid eye contact with most of the other students in the classroom. This was only one of three classes that Bulma had inside Orange Star High. The other two were History and her next period class, Chemistry.

Math passed by slowly because Bulma knew that Vegeta would sit next to Maron in her next class, while she would be stuck next to Yamcha. Everything being taught she already knew, so she didn't need to pay any attention to the lecture her teacher had been giving on chapter one, section two in the textbook. She had handed in her homework and used the remainder of the period to try and relax. But with what Chichi had said being the first thing on her mind, it was difficult to even sit still. She felt her face get hot and pinker than usual when she fidgeted and people turned to see what she was doing. Many looked under her desk, looking to see if she was trying to contact someone with her cell phone. Bulma knew very well that that someone was Vegeta. She knew she would have to do something before the drama began to spread like a wildfire.

The bell rang, signaling that third period was over and fourth period was about to begin. Bulma's heart sped up and she had to calm herself down before exiting the classroom and heading to her locker. When she was finished grabbing the correct books for her next class, she turned around only to come face-to-face with Vegeta's back. The hallway was clotted up at the intersection between the math wing and the science wing, and Vegeta wasn't even moving because of all the people. Bulma didn't want to make herself known, so she just remained behind him, waiting for the people to start moving again.

She felt silly for not saying at least "hello" since he probably knew she was right behind him anyway. But she couldn't help it. She didn't want to risk him saying anything that might make her feel even worse than the last time. If she had been in the mood to argue, then maybe she would have said something, but she felt it was best if she stayed quiet for the time being.

When the people moved out of the way, Bulma saw that the hold-up had just been from a group of four girls talking in the middle of the hallway. Bulma rolled her eyes at their inconsiderate behavior, but shrugged it off. Her class was only a few steps down the hall anyway. She wouldn't be late to this class just because of a simple group of inconsiderate gossiping nitwits.

Vegeta opened the door to the classroom and held it open behind him for her to enter. He didn't turn, but Bulma understood its supposedly apologetic meaning. If Vegeta was anything when it came to expressing himself, it was definitely subtle. And even then, Bulma really wasn't going _that_ far.

"Thank you," she said softly, and she knew he heard her even though he didn't respond. She hadn't expected him to.

They both walked in and Vegeta took his seat. As Bulma shuffled her way around him to get to her seat, the sound of his voice made her halt.

"I wouldn't sit there," he said nonchalantly.

"Why not?" Bulma asked. "It's my seat. Where else could I sit?" She, of course, knew the blatantly obvious answer to that question, but she just wanted to hear him answer it.

"You could sit here," he said, pointing next to him. He still wasn't looking at her, she noted. "And as for your first question, your friend Yamcha stinks like slut. And he's still fresh."

Bulma kept her mouth shut, knowing very well what he meant from the awkward morning involvements she had experienced. She didn't dare to respond to that part of his statement. Instead, she dropped her bags next to the tall metal lab stool and took her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vegeta's head roll a bit. Apparently, he didn't have such a boring second period class as her and Chichi.

"He's not my friend," Bulma said quickly, going over what he had just said and finding a flaw.

"You could have fooled me."

Bulma tasted a bit of malice coming from his words. And was that… _jealousy_ she heard? That was silly. Why would Vegeta have any reason to be jealous of Yamcha? He was with Maron, and in more ways than one, as they both had recently found out. But it was still nice to realize that he would rather have her for himself.

"How about we focus on not getting a detention this time?" she asked jokingly. Vegeta rolled his eyes without emotion. "You know, the nurse will send you home if you fall asleep in class. I'm not usually the one to do something bad, but you could always pretend to be asleep and get sent to the nurse. She could send you home to get some rest. You don't have to be here."

He turned to face her and Bulma froze, half-expecting him to not look at her all day. The look on his face was a showy mix of displeasure and annoyance. "And where exactly do you think I'd go? I'm no longer allowed in my own damn house," he said harshly, making Bulma flinch.

"I'm sure you wouldn't mind sleeping in the grass. It's a nice warm day out. I bet the grass is really warm. Rest is rest, no matter where you are. And if you're really that tired, then you should do it."

The only thing Bulma received in reply was a heated glare. But then he turned toward the classroom's entrance. Bulma followed his gaze, already knowing why he had turned.

Maron dramatically swung open the door to the room. It collided with the back wall, making a loud slamming noise. Yamcha followed in proudly beside her: The lowly fisherman had caught himself a great white. Bulma rolled her eyes. Yamcha was definitely not her friend. He could have been. She had believed that before and wasn't about to deny it to anyone, including herself, but he wasn't now. She wasn't going to deny that either. Not after what she had witnessed. She didn't give a damn how badly he wanted it. Maron was lower than garbage, and stooping to her level had brought Yamcha down to the bottom of the trash can with her.

Maron sneered when she saw Bulma, and her face distorted into a nauseating scowl when she saw that she had changed her seat just to sit next to Vegeta. Bulma looked away. She had no interest in Maron or her new play-toy. Neither of them were any of her concern. She had her grades to worry about now, she mentally told herself. School had just begun for her. Nothing was going to prevent her from making her parents proud of her now. Maron was yesterday's news to her. She wouldn't allow herself to be distracted anymore.

The entire classroom was full by the time Maron and Yamcha had taken their seats. Bulma guessed that Maron hadn't said anything to her about the seat change because now she had an excuse to sit next to Yamcha. Bulma stuck out her tongue in disgust when no one was watching her.

"Alright," the pregnant teacher said, entering the classroom by the back door, which lead into her office. "The first thing I'd like to get out of the way this morning is that we will be having a chapter test on Friday." Moans and groans erupted throughout the room. The teacher waited for it to settle down before continuing. "I will make sure to go over the entire chapter all throughout this week. If you pay attention, take notes, and study hard, I'm sure you'll do just fine." Bulma could have sworn that the teacher glanced over in her general direction before continuing. She couldn't blame her. Vegeta, Maron and her had gotten a detention last time they were in this class together. "It isn't a difficult test. Also remember that this will be your first test grade for the marking period, so it's very important that you do your best to get the highest grade you can. Alright? Any questions?"

When no one raised their hand, the pregnant teacher began with her lecture for the day. Chapter one was all about safety and precautionary methods to use while in the lab area. Bulma knew all that because of her father and his science-enthusiast fiends of his. Bulma would have never been able to work with her father if she didn't know the proper procedures for protection. Goggles were the most obvious precaution. Then there were lab aprons and so on. And the different signs that mean things such as warnings of fire use during the experiment or the treatment of highly toxic acids. But this was only a high school, not an actual laboratory, so she wouldn't be doing important things like what she had done for her father when she was younger. She had nothing to worry about and, like usual, she had no need to pay attention.

Bulma glanced to her right and noticed Vegeta with his head down. She felt a sudden urge to place her hand on his shoulder and just keep it there, but she didn't dare do it. She couldn't understand why she felt like doing it either. It wasn't like she wanted to remind him that she was there if he needed her. That was stupid because, first, Vegeta was probably the most aware person in the room, even in his tired state. And he knew she was there. Second was that he probably wouldn't ask for her help if his life depended on it, especially from her.

But then again, maybe he wouldn't mind if she did it. If all the things Chichi said about him taking an interest in her were true, then he certainly wouldn't mind. But he was prideful, and not exactly in a good mood. She didn't know what to do, but she knew that no matter how hard she thought about it, she undoubtedly wasn't going to do it. She was just too prideful in her own way. He was still a little bit of a jerk, and she wasn't going to outright do something that said she cared about him. Maybe it was because, more than likely, he would just shrug her off, and Bulma wasn't exactly in the mood to be rejected. Exclusively with Maron and Yamcha sitting right next to her. Maron would come up with some other way to make fun of her if she saw Bulma get shrugged off by Vegeta. And then it might turn into something related to drama. That was a big no-no.

Bulma decided that it would only be best for her to keep her distance with Vegeta while in school. If people saw them together too much, she would have to deal with gossiping and lies all around her. And they would all be _about_ her. She was going to avoid that at all costs. No Vegeta interactions in Orange Star High, she told herself forcefully.

"—if everyone would just pay _attention_!"

Bulma looked up when Vegeta's elbow jabbed her in the side. The pregnant teacher was looking straight at her with a frown on her face.

"Excuse me?" Bulma asked.

"Miss Briefs, do you need to go to the office for a _second_ time in the first week of school?" Bulma was asked.

"No," she replied politely, trying not to add something bad at the end of her one-worded response. "I'm sorry. I guess I just dazed out… I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," she quickly lied, remembering Vegeta and an excuse instantly coming to her mind. She would be damned if she didn't use it. She wasn't getting two detentions. The first one was bad enough, considering that she hadn't done anything wrong. Not paying attention for five seconds was a stupid reason to get another offense.

"Well I hope you get plenty tonight because I won't tolerate any more misbehavior in my class, young lady. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bulma said, lowering her head as if she had been doing something horrible. It was only to make herself seem more apologetic, but she heard Maron giggle quietly, and her blood began to boil.

Glancing at the clock, Bulma's jaw dropped. She had been in a daze for over twenty minutes. But that was insane. She hadn't been thinking about Vegeta for that long… Had she? And then Yamcha's mockingly-energetic laugh almost pushed her over the edge when he saw that it was his turn when Maron was finished, but Vegeta turned to her, and she could feel his eyes on her. Yamcha had been corrupted by pure heartless evil. It was official.

"You should stop pissing off the teacher," he said, yawning, and Bulma rolled her eyes at the intended joke. He chuckled and folded his arms against his chest, sitting up straight for the first time during the entire day. Well, that Bulma had seen.

"I'll keep that in mind next time it happens," she contemptuously replied.

"Don't get involved in a war with someone more powerful than you, woman," Vegeta said, and it sounded as if he had done it before and had actually ended up regretting it later on.

"What's she going to do? Give me another detention? Call my parents? I'd hardly call that power, Vegeta. I would call that cowardice. She can't come over here and take care of me herself. She has to find other ways to try and make me pay for pissing her off. In my personal opinion, that makes _me_ the one with more power. I can do what I want, and she can do nothing but give me little punishments for it." She proudly and defiantly folded her arms across her chest, mimicking Vegeta's posture. "Like painting a wall for an hour. In all honesty, I had nothing _better_ to do. I thought it was _fun_."

"She's looking at you again," he said softly, glancing in the direction of the chalkboard. He chuckled when Bulma quickly faced forward and pretended to be taking notes. "But she has her ways of making you behave, now doesn't she?" he added. His notebook wasn't even open and he was obviously _not_ paying attention to anything involving the lecture. He had even been _asleep_ for twenty minutes of the period. Bulma guessed that maybe this teacher just hated her guts or something. She couldn't imagine why.

Vegeta looked back up at the chalkboard. "That's very interesting."


	17. Uninvited Entry

**Chapter Sixteen: Uninvited Entry**

Bulma grabbed her gym bag from her locker and swung it over her right shoulder. Vegeta leaned up against the locker to her right, staring at her. Bulma would have thought that he would be too tired to stare so intently like he was, but she had been wrong about him plenty of times before. She stood and left her purse and bag on a hook in the locker and shut the metal door. She turned the lock to zero and faced Vegeta.

"Ready?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes at her, stepping forward to walk in front of her. He stayed like that as they walked, purposefully increasing his stride whenever she tried to match his speed. He didn't even turn when they had to part ways for Bulma to turn down the hallway to the girls' locker room. She didn't want to make a scene or anything, so she just walked the other way without a comment or even a single word to him.

Bulma opened the door and rounded the corner. The first thing she saw was Chichi with her V-neck tank top off, throwing on her gym shirt. Bulma opened her gym bag and grabbed her clothes from inside, pulling off her own shirt.

"I can't believe you're actually wearing those sneakers," Chichi said suddenly, and Bulma glanced down at her brown shoes. What was wrong with them?

"What do you mean?" she asked, "I always wear these."

"You _do_ know that it's almost eighty degrees outside, don't you?" Bulma was about to respond, but Chichi didn't give her the chance. "Girls wear open-toed shoes on hot days like this. You don't have to wear flip-flops if it's not your thing. I get that. But _sneakers_. Really, Bulma? Those are _men_ -shoes."

Bulma shrugged nonchalantly, throwing on her t-shirt for gym class.

"Don't give me that," Chichi said, pulling up her gym shorts as she hopped on one foot to keep her balance. "You know what? Vegeta told me you have a huge house and lots of money. So, you shouldn't have a problem with me taking you out shopping. I promise you won't have to spend a penny if you don't want to, but I think it might help you out a bit if I gave you some pointers." Chichi waited to make sure that she hadn't offended Bulma by accident.

"Actually, I was planning on asking you for some help anyway," Bulma replied with a smile, "But I didn't think that my shoes were the problem. I thought it was just my clothes," she said, looking down at herself. They left their belongings on the floor and headed out towards the gym.

When they walked out of the locker room, Bulma noticed that a couple of the teachers were absent. Substitutes were walking around. She nervously wondered if some sickness was spreading around the school.

"That's great, because I was planning on taking you somewhere special over the weekend. We're all leaving on Friday if you want to come," she said with a smile. Bulma thought it looked a little devious.

"Who's _we_?" she asked, eyeing her raven-haired friend suspiciously.

"Goku and I, of course. But I figured that if you went with us as well, Vegeta would have to come along for the ride."

Bulma knew exactly what Chichi meant, and felt a little bad if she really had that kind of power over her dream boy. "And where would we be going, exactly?" she questioned, not letting up on her suspicious tone.

"The beach," she replied and Bulma lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"Summer's over in ten days," she said.

"That's nice. What's your point?"

"It's not vacation-time anymore, Chichi," Bulma said simply, "The weather isn't as nice, and what's the point of going to the beach if the water is going to be freezing and the sun isn't going to be out?"

"I just told you why, silly. We're going to go find your long-lost fashion sense."

"I think you mean long- _dead_."

"True, but this is an opportunity for you to give birth to a new one. Bring the life into the world, Bulma!" Chichi said excitedly and Bulma quickly turned to walk away. "What did I say?"

Bulma walked over to her spot for attendance as Chichi came up behind her. "There are plenty of clothing stores on the boardwalk, and they sell the best clothes down there, let me tell you."

"Why is it necessary to go for an entire weekend if all we're going to do is shop for clothes?" Bulma asked, currently trying to find a way out of it. She didn't know why. It had come to her like a natural defense mechanism.

"Come on, Bulma. You can't tell me it's not worth going in the ice-cold water…" Chichi was mocking her, she concluded. "… if you get to see what Vegeta's like on the beach… without a shirt on," she added, smiling triumphantly as Bulma's jaw dropped to the floor.

"This is part of your stupid little plan?" she guffawed. "I'm not going if you're trying to get Ve—"

"Shush! Here he comes," Chichi whispered as Vegeta came out of the locker room and got in his line for attendance. Bulma's face turned pink and he glanced at her curiously. Then he glared at Chichi and Bulma remembered that he still had no place to sleep for a while. She didn't know how long, though. She'd have to ask Chichi the next chance she got.

As the substitute teachers took attendance, one of the regular physical education teachers whistled, making many students jump and face forward. Bulma was among them.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he asked. "Thank you. Now, as you can see, not a lot of our teachers aren't here today, so this class will be going outside to play Frisbee or just walking around the football field." Groans and whoops were heard. The teacher whistled loudly again and everyone fell silent. "You will be split up between competitive and non-competitive groups for Frisbee. We'll have two games. One for each. And then the people who want to walk can just circle around the field."

Bulma knew that meant that the boys were going to competitive and girls were going to non-competitive for Frisbee. She knew, though, that if Maron was in her gym class, she would probably go to the competitive game for the boys. Even though it would be fun to watch her be an idiot, it wouldn't be fun to watch her tackling Vegeta or something else that defined her as a slut. So, she was happier without Maron in this class.

The only other problem was that Yamcha was in this class. Knowing Vegeta's secret made her worry for Yamcha's safety. If he tried to do anything to get back at Vegeta for how he always treated Maron, he was going to be another victim.

"All right, then. Everyone get outside. Participation grades mean that you need to _participate_! No sitting on the sidelines!" he called after everyone as Chichi ran up to her left side.

"Ready to have some fun?" she asked, and for a second, Bulma could have sworn that she was being sarcastic, but the look on her face revealed enthusiasm.

"And you're excited to be playing Frisbee with random people because…?" Bulma asked skeptically.

"Frisbee? No, no, no, Bulma," she said, waggling a finger at her. "This is a new addition to the plan, as of right _now_. You know what happens when you put Bulma Briefs and yours truly between Vegeta, Goku, Yamcha and Sharpner, don't you?"

Sharpner. Bulma had forgotten about him. His warning and accusations hung in her brain for a moment before she responded. "You're not serious." It wasn't a question.

"Listen, Bulma. Whether you like it or not, you've become the new toy in this school. It's because everyone can tell that Vegeta hangs around you more than everybody else. And Goku and I don't count because we're old news. Get it?"

"I don't think I want to," she replied, trying to escape. She could see Vegeta walking up ahead and Goku was heading through the crowds towards them. She tried to hurry up, but there were too many people in the way to the exit.

"Vegeta likes you, Bulma! Get it through your thick skull already, will you?" A few people turned their way and Bulma highly doubted that Vegeta didn't hear Chichi's shriek. Her face turned pink again.

"Aww, Chichi," Goku whined, coming up to walk with the two of them, "You're making Bulma look like a stop sign. Cut it out."

"I just told her about our plan for the beach." Chichi smiled big.

"Good," Goku said, as if he was a proud father. He turned to Bulma. "Did you say yes?" he asked.

"Sure, I guess. I'll go," Bulma said, and then regretted it.

"Cool. Then I guess Vegeta will be tagging along, too."

"What is it with you two?" Bulma asked. "Do you plan out my life every night before you go to bed or something? Because it certainly sounds like it."

"Sorry, Bulma," Goku said. "We don't mean to be pests, but you know. I do kind of want to see Vegeta happy like the old days."

"Huh?" Bulma tilted her head to one side, a soft expression on her face.

"Vegeta used to be happy back when we were on Planet Vegeta. Well, not super happy, but Vegeta-happy. You know what I mean. But ever since we got here, he hasn't done much. He just kind of… lives without a purpose. I think you could be healthy for him. He just needs a little push. That's why we're doing this. It has nothing to do with bothering you."

Bulma couldn't respond, and Chichi saw her chance.

"Yeah, Bulma," she quickly added in, "I think Vegeta could use a little female action, and you're like him in ways I can't even describe. Remember that you remind him of not being able to go home, no offense. This is hard on him. It's harder on him than what we're doing to you. But this is really to help him out. You understand, don't you?"

"I guess so."

"Don't be like that," Goku said as they walked through the parking lot to get to the football field for gym class. It was perfect for playing Frisbee. "I know you like him, too. Keep in mind that I can sense everything that he can. I am a Saiyan, too, you know." He laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Bulma couldn't help but laugh along with him, even though her embarrassment clearly showed because of the color of her face. But with Chichi around, that was just plain awkward…

"All right, you two clowns," Chichi said sarcastically, pushing them both forward with a hand on each of their backs, "Let's get moving. Vegeta's all the way up there already."

The teachers lined up as the referees for each of the two Frisbee games. Bulma had been right. The girls were on the non-competitive field and the boys were on the competitive field. Well, most of the girls were walking around the field, but the ones that weren't were playing non-competitive.

Vegeta watched Bulma as she started walking around the field. Bulma managed to avoid eye contact as Sharpner started picking his teammates for Frisbee. Vegeta just stood there as people gathered behind him. Goku moved to stand next to him, letting go of Chichi's hand and smiling as they parted. Bulma just stood there, feeling like an idiot.

"Over here, Bulma." Chichi waved her over. "Come on, this is the fun part. We get to watch Saiyans play Frisbee."

"What do you mean? Saiyans play Frisbee differently? I would have never thought of that."

"No, silly. They play Frisbee the same as you and me, but the difference is that they have more speed and agility than people like us. Not to mention their strength. I bet my man Goku could throw that tiny plastic Frisbee through the entire school building with only one arm." Chichi put her hands on her hips and smiled proudly. "And the best part about this day is that we can discuss some things while we walk."

Bulma paused. "What kind of things?" she asked nervously.

"Yes, what's on your mind is what I was going to bring up, Bulma. Believe it or not."

"You don't know what I was thinking," she answered defiantly.

"Yes I do: Vegeta on the beach."

 _Damn_ , Bulma thought as they started circling the field. "In all honesty, Chichi, we haven't really done anything. You keep saying that he likes me and I like him, but you can't really know that. Vegeta could just be acting nice to me because I'm friends with you, or something like that. What I mean to say is that we aren't going out. What's going on between us couldn't even be considered _just friends_. Nothing is happening. I think you're trying too hard with these plans of yours. Maybe you should stop. Leave Vegeta alone. I like him, but I barely know the guy. I respect him enough to leave him alone. I'm not like Maron," she added for effect.

"You know about him being a different species. I would say that _that_ makes you his friend, at the least."

"But he wasn't even the one who told me. Instead, he put on an act of trying to _kill_ me so I wouldn't find out. I wouldn't call that a friend. Would you?"

"I wouldn't call Vegeta anything, Bulma. He's one of a kind. That's what I'd call him, if I had to pick something that was fitting. And you already know why he did that. I told you."

"Yeah, I remember. About his homesickness and how me being here makes him feel like he can't destroy all life on the planet, meaning he can never go home. Yada, yada, yada. I get that, but what if it isn't true. I never talked to him about it. I doubt he would even respond if I brought it up. What if he's planning on killing me later anyway? You don't know what goes through a one of a kind brain, Chichi!"

"The one thing I'd like to point out is that I've known Vegeta for just about three years now. You haven't known him for more than ten days. Boys in general act weird. Vegeta is going to need more time before he starts talking to you about personal things. He never even says anything about himself to me, and Goku has to rip things like that out of him, and they've been best friends for their entire lives."

"I'm not worried about that. My point right now is maybe the plan-thing isn't such a good idea. What if he finds out what you're trying to do? He'll hate me, and I don't want that. I'd rather him think of me as a stain on the wall than hate me. Besides, I think he doesn't mind me right now. I don't need you and Goku's plan to keep that up. Maybe the beach isn't your best idea."

"How about this, then? Can we make a wager?"

"What sort of wager?"

"If nothing good comes out of the trip to the beach, then I will talk to Goku and we'll stop making plans, okay?"

"And…?" Bulma pressed. Of course there was more. She _was_ talking to Chichi, after all.

"And if something very good comes out of it… Then we'll see what happens. If I think a few more arrangements are in order, then no more complaining from the peanut gallery, got it?"

"That's just stupid."

"Do we have a deal or not?" Chichi asked, slowing down her pace so the group of girls walking in front of them couldn't eavesdrop on what they were saying.

Bulma slowed her pace to match Chichi's as she thought. Nothing was going to come out of a trip to the beach for only one weekend, so she felt she had nothing to worry about. "Deal," she said, and they shook hands like children. Chichi laughed as her hand dropped down to her side. "What's so funny?"

"I have some brilliant ideas coming. You're lucky we don't live with our parents, or they'd have a few things to say about this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think I should brief you on what I think is going to happen. If we can, we'll get two rooms, one for the Saiyans and the other for you and I. Then, I'll pretend something happened and Goku will come into my room, forcing Vegeta to either leave you outside or invite you in for the night. Sound okay so far?"

"I'm not having sex with him, Chichi. I'm only a junior."

"That's what they all say," Chichi smirked and Bulma scowled at her. "I don't expect you to, but you never know. Pack some condoms or something."

"Chichi! I'm _not_ going to have sex with him," she said, lowering her voice before she embarrassed herself to the point of no return. "This is a horrible idea. I don't want to go to the beach anymore. I'm not going if this is what you're going to do to me for an entire weekend. This is stupid and crazy. Why plan it out? Why not just get to rooms and stick me with the guy that wants to kill me, huh? Why not make the excuse that you want to be with Goku in a room? No offense, but I think Vegeta will catch on like that."

"All right fine. We'll do it your way, smarty-pants."

"No, I said I'm not going and I meant it."

"You can't go back on your word!"

"I never gave you my word. I said _yeah, sure_. That doesn't count as anything serious."

"Bulma, come on. You're no fun. If you don't spend quality time with Vegeta, you'll never get to see him like… like when he's happy. I mean, _honestly_ happy."

"It's not worth torturing him like you're saying to do."

Chichi remained silent for the next few minutes as they walked next to each other.

"I love Vegeta," Chichi finally said and Bulma looked up. "He's like the brother I never had, and I would do anything for him. I would never think of doing something to him like what you're saying. I think you're being too dramatic. Vegeta can handle himself. You don't need to be his silent protector, coming out from the shadows to defend him from his _best friends_. You're right: You don't even know him."

She was angry. Bulma kept her eyes on her feet. The rest of the class was only silence between the two of them.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

The rest of the day passed by in a painfully slow manner. Without Chichi talking to her, the day was a drag. History was the only perk, when Vegeta chose to sit in the seat next to her in the trailer- classroom they were assigned to. But he hadn't talked much. Other than a few grunts and gestures, he hadn't even acknowledged her existence.

So, Bulma pressed on the brakes in her car as she pulled up her driveway, parking the car so that no one else could get down the driveway without parking their car in the street and walking. If Chichi wanted to apologize, then she would have to walk to Bulma's front door. Other than that, no one else would come to her house.

But as she stepped out of her car and walked up to the back door, pulling out her keys, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle got closer and closer to her. As she pushed the key into the lock on the door, she caught the flash of black out of the corner of her eye. It was her helmet, she instantly knew.

"What do you want, Vegeta?" she asked, keeping her voice low and bored. She hadn't forgotten that he was a jerk earlier in the day.

"A place to stay," he replied, walking up to her after setting down the kickstand on his bike and shutting off the engine. He grabbed her keys, unlocked the door and walked inside, cutting her off.

"Hey!" Bulma called as he opened the inside garage door to the laundry room. He kicked off his boots and walked into the kitchen, her helmet still under his right arm. He hung it over a kitchen chair by the strap. "I never said you could come in here."

"Yes, you did," he said simply, walking into the living room and sitting down on one of the couches. He put his feet up on her coffee table and grabbed the remote. "This morning, in English."

"Well, I changed my mind!" Bulma growled and Vegeta took a glance at her as a commercial came on.

" _You're_ kicking me out as well?" he asked, and Bulma truly couldn't stand the look on his face. It clearly held nothing but a blank expression, a question that needed an answer before the commercials were over. But Bulma knew that rejection from her meant that he would have to stay outside for another night and probably get no sleep like last night. _That would do wonders for his temper_ , she thought bitterly.

"Fine, you can stay. But you have to talk to Chichi and Goku tomorrow, because one night's all you're getting. Got it?"

"Yes, _mother_ ," he mocked, turning back to the television. Bulma sighed. He got what he wanted, so now he was back to normal. What a manipulative bastard he was sometimes. He smirked, feeling her anger, she supposed.

"And you get the _couch_ ," she said. If she couldn't give him one kind of rejection, she would give him another kind. "If you even think about coming upstairs after eight-thirty, I'm not only going to kick you out, but I'm also going to wipe that stupid smirk off your face. And no food for you unless I give it to you. Don't go through my things. Better yet, just don't touch anything but the remote. Can you handle that?"

"You sure know how to make a person feel welcome in your home," he said, rolling his eyes, but waving her away in agreement nonetheless.

"You're not a person," she replied, but it came out too fast, and she couldn't have stopped it if she tried.

"Then what am I?" he asked, turning away from the television screen and hitting her with the full force of his onyx eyes. Bulma didn't know what to say.

"You're a Saiyan," she answered calmly, keeping her voice low.

"Being a Saiyan doesn't qualify me being a _person_ to you? I'm not an Earthling, but I'm pretty sure that I'm a _person_ , woman." He glanced back at the television, his point being made. "I didn't know you thought of me as much different from you. But if you say so, then maybe I am." The last part was more to himself than her.

Bulma wondered why she had to keep getting everyone mad at her. What was she doing wrong? But more importantly, how was she going to fix it?


	18. Anger Issues

**Chapter Seventeen: Anger Issues**

Bulma knew she was dreaming the moment her head hit the pillow. It hadn't been a long night at all, after Vegeta began ignoring her in her own house. So she wasn't particularly tired, but she knew she was dreaming nonetheless.

All around her were flowers. She was sitting upright in a meadow that reflected the full force of a wonderful summer, her hands behind her in the plush grass. It was the first giveaway that she was dreaming. She guessed it was from her talk about the beach with Chichi during the school day. Summer was her favorite season because of the warmth. But fall was coming and the weather wasn't as nice anymore.

Vegeta came over to lay next to her, of course, his arms behind his head for support. What else was a girl to dream about after seeing his face for the umpteenth time? Bulma sighed and smiled. He was so much nicer in her dreams. She could smell the flowers all around and they felt soft below her. She glanced over at him, his eyes closed and his breathing even. He sounded asleep, but she knew he couldn't have fallen asleep so quickly.

She reached out her hand to touch him, but shied away. His eyes were closed, but she knew that he could feel her jerk back her hand at the last moment. He chuckled to give it away and Bulma flushed scarlet. Even in her dreams, her face was always a different color.

Vegeta chuckled again and Bulma rolled her eyes. She wondered why he didn't open his eyes to look at her. Why didn't he want to look at her? Maybe a little bit of his anger was transferred from reality into her own private thoughts. Maybe her mind made him like that because she knew she felt guilty about what she had said to him before going upstairs to prepare for bed. It seemed a reasonable enough explanation as any.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a voice that would have made angels jealous. Bulma inhaled sharply just to get over how intoxicating his voice was in her paradise.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I'm not doing anything."

"Stop mumbling, woman. I can't hear you," he said, but there was no ounce of annoyance in his voice for a change. Although his comment was a bit rude, Bulma hadn't been offended in the slightest of ways.

"I said I'm not doing anything," she repeated, a little louder this time and making sure her throat was clear.

"Stop that," he said. This time, his expression was calm while his voice was sharp. It was as if she was attacking him, but he wasn't worried about himself. Bulma mentally shrugged at his tone of voice. He sounded strange, but he didn't look like he meant anything by it. Maybe he was trying to play a joke on her.

"I'm not doing anything," she said, going back to her normal tone of voice. She stared ahead when he didn't respond. After a few more moments, she turned back to face him. "What are you playing at?" she asked, but stopped when he was no longer lying next to her. "Vegeta?" she called lightly, not forgetting about his Saiyan speed. She glanced all around for him. "If this is your excuse of playing a trick on me, it's not very good," she said with a laugh.

"I like you like this."

Bulma jumped. His voice was coming from all around, like echoes in a sealed room. It was so loud, Bulma had to cover her ears to hear it clearly. "Where are you?" she asked loudly, thinking that he would only be able to hear her if she matched his level of volume. But it seemed nearly impossible. "Cut it out!" she screamed, trying to make him hear her.

"I always found that this was the best way to get a person to apologize," his booming voice said. There was no strain on his tone. The loud voice sounded almost natural, as if he was a giant.

"I'm sorry," Bulma called out, cupping her hands around her mouth. She realized that she wasn't feeling anything. She wasn't worried or angry or even upset. She was just calling to him, as if asking him to come back to the meadow. His loud voice made him seem so far away, so distant.

"You're more fun when you think I'm not here," he said. Bulma couldn't help standing up and looking all around. She placed her hand on her forehead to block out the sun in her eyes and glanced around the flowery meadow. "Maybe you should wake up now," he said, and Bulma, hearing his words but not actually hearing them, paused.

When realization hit her like a raging bull on steroids, she snapped back into her body and reluctantly opened her eyes. She was deathly afraid of what she might find. The only thing she was hoping for her life was that her clothes were still on.

When she adjusted to the bit of light flowing in through the window, she looked down at herself. Her clothes were still there, and she seemed to know that her latest fear shouldn't have even been given a single thought. Vegeta wouldn't do something like that to her, in the state that she was in… She trusted him. And he wouldn't need to force her…

Thinking about Vegeta made her look up. She knew he was there. She knew from the moment her brain came back to her bedroom. She could smell his personal scent, a mix of a woodsy musk and something not quite sweet. She couldn't put a name to the second one. As soon as her fingers twitched, she could feel his thick muscles underneath her. The warmth between her legs, she knew, was the reason he had woken her. She didn't want to know anything else. Especially because of the way her right leg curled up, her knee bent over the bottom of his stomach, her foot delicately tucked under his left thigh. Her arms were over and around him and her head nested at the base of his neck, where his beautiful scent was the strongest.

"I thought you were mad at me," she said, a bit annoyed by his mood swings. She had decided to speak since moving anything would probably only make things worse for her.

"I still am," he said, but she could tell that he was only joking. "But it wouldn't hurt your chances of making things better if you got off of me."

Bulma silently gulped and dared to lift her chin to look at his face. She felt her lips part as her breath came out in ridged shivers. He looked god-like with the tiny amounts of light coming in through the window and landing on one side of his face.

After he made his comment, Bulma remembered what Chichi had told her about Vegeta and his past years on Earth with Goku. She guessed that him telling her to get off was a result of that past. If he was still worried about his assignment, purging Earth of all humans, and going back home, than having her on top of him probably wasn't in his best interest.

Wondering if she was making the worst decision in all her life, she decided to say something about it. "Vegeta, am I in the way of something that you want?" she asked, knowing that Goku and Chichi would have to go to Hell and come back if she tattled on them.

He just looked at her, not responding, his expression blank. The question didn't surprise him at all. He didn't even flinch before having to maintain his normal emotionless composure. There was no change. He just looked at her for a couple seconds before looking up at the ceiling.

"Get off of me, Bulma," he said simply. This time, she obliged.

Sliding her hands over his chest, she placed them in front of her as she steadied her balance to prepare to remove her leg from his apparently much-needed personal space. Her movements were slow and fluid as she made sure not to slide over… anything _important_. Vegeta didn't move as she slid her foot out from under his thigh and lifted up her right leg to bring it back over to its rightful place next to her left leg. She let out a relieved breath when she came back together in one solid piece.

Vegeta sat up and placed his feet on the ground. Then he smirked. "I thought you were going to wipe the smirk off my face," he mocked, chuckling as he avoided eye contact.

Not wanting to mop the floor with her deflated ego, she quickly changed the subject to something she knew would alter the flow of conversation between them.

"I can tell that there's something else you want, and it's clear that I'm in the way. So, don't blame me for anything you might be thinking. You're bringing this on yourself by forcing yourself into my home. Keep in mind that I never said you could stay until you insisted." Not wanting to sound like she knew everything, Bulma prepared to enhance her lies. "Is it another girl?" she asked, and Vegeta turned to her, his expression playful. Bulma rethought her idea of _enhancing lies_ as his gaze mocked her to no end.

" _Jealous_?" he asked naughtily.

Bulma was quick to shake her head and Vegeta chuckled. Bulma raised her eyebrows at his mischievous tone. " _Is_ it another girl?" she asked, a bit louder to show that she wanted a serious answer this time.

"Yes," he mocked with a smile, "It's _Maron_ , the beautiful and sexy beast from Orange Star High."

"I'm serious," Bulma said, sitting up and folding her arms as Vegeta stood up. He began walking towards the door, gesturing that the topic required no seriousness whatsoever.

"Of course not," he said with a nonchalant shrug. And as he was walking down the stairs, he added, "There's only you."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" Bulma asked, stampeding around the house as Vegeta gulped down an entire box of cereal in under two minutes. _Without_ milk. "School started four hours ago!"

"No point in going now then, I guess," he said, swallowing another mouthful of food before chugging another glass of milk to wash it down.

"That's not funny!" she yelled from the living room, fixing the pillows on the couch as she walked by. "And stop eating all my food! What the hell is wrong with you? I just bought that! You're like a starving animal! What, does Chichi never feed you or something?"

"Put it this way, woman," he said, waving a spoon in the air as he spoke, "If you didn't know about the time, you wouldn't be acting like a moron. So why bother doing it now? Knowing the time shouldn't have that much of an effect on you. _I_ barely have that much of an effect on you, and that's saying something."

Bulma walked into the kitchen and stared at his empty bowl. When he started to pour more cereal into it, Bulma put her hands on her hips. "You were supposed to stay down here! Don't tell me I never told you that, either, because I know I did. So, you'd better have a very good reason for jumping into my bed with me in the middle of the night!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Well? Why didn't you stay down here like I told you to?" she yelled, making Vegeta ever-so-slightly wince at her high pitched tone of voice.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, swallowing his last mouthful and putting down his spoon. "I thought I would be able to sleep because I was tired, but apparently I was wrong."

Bulma tilted her head, her anxiety about missing a day of school quickly diminishing because of her dream boy's shifted tone. He sounded angry with himself, as if he had been weak. And Bulma knew that weakness was one thing that Vegeta rarely tolerated in anyone, especially himself. Instead of responding, she kept quiet, giving him the opportunity to continue if he so desired.

"So I disobeyed your stupid regulations. If I'm going to stay here, I'm going to do what I want, woman. Let me make that very clear."

Bulma rolled her eyes as her façade, and turned around to let her smile bloom without him seeing. So he couldn't fall asleep without her. How nice… She smiled bigger and made her way to the stairs.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma raced down the stairs. The doorbell had been ringing for the past thirty seconds, so Bulma guessed that Vegeta, who was only a few steps away from the front door, wasn't going to get up. So, Bulma had to run down the stairs and open the door. Before she turned the lock to open it, she glared at Vegeta for being rude. He didn't notice her, his attention on her television as he leaned back into the middle indent on the couch.

When Bulma opened the door, she was surprised to see Goku standing there. Leaning back on her heels, she checked the time on the clock hanging off of a nail on the far wall. It was almost four-thirty. School had been out for a little over two hours now.

"Hi, Goku," she said with a forced smile. Vegeta had been dancing on her nerves all day and she was happy to see another face enter her life for the time being. "What do you need?"

"Do I _need_ a reason to be here?" he asked innocently, and Bulma waved a hand in the air around her face.

"No, of course not, Goku. You're welcome here anytime you want," she replied. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, and then realized that he was alone for once. "Where's Chichi?" They were always together… or they had been for the times she had been with them. It was a sort of an odd shock to see him alone.

Goku looked down at the ground, obviously nervous about answering. "Well, Chichi didn't want to come. I just wanted to stop by to see how Vegeta was doing. I heard someone say he was crashing here since Chichi kicked him out."

"What?!" Bulma blurted. "Who's _someone_?"

"I don't know. I heard it when I was leaving Orange Star. I don't know who said it. It was just some other person talking to his friends."

"Goku!" Bulma cried, and Vegeta seemed to be using a crowbar to unstick his eyes off the television screen as he glanced over at the sound of her nervous squeal to his Saiyan partner.

"What's going on?" he asked Goku, a little annoyed that he had been bothered.

"No one asked you to butt in," Goku mumbled in response.

"Get out!" Bulma yelled, and Vegeta redirected his narrowing eyes to her.

"What did you just say?" he asked, almost as if he was threatening her. Bulma didn't fall for it. With Goku here, he wouldn't dare try anything funny. She was confident that if she wanted him out, Goku would make it happen. What Vegeta wanted wouldn't matter.

"You heard me! People need to think that you never came here! So get out! Now! Go parade yourself somewhere where people can see you!"

"Don't you think that, uhm, you're overreacting about this a little, Bulma?" Goku asked, nervous because of her newfound fiery attitude.

"No, I promised myself that I wouldn't get involved with drama," she replied, "And this is going to make me the source of everyone's entertainment. I don't need that now. I don't need that _ever_!"

"But," Goku tried, but was at a loss for words. "What about Vegeta?"

"Take him home with you. He's been bothering me all day anyway."

"I'm right here," Vegeta said sourly, leaning over the edge of the couch's arm to be able to look at the two of them. "Don't I have a say in this? I haven't bothered you, woman. I haven't done anything but sit here all day."

"That's why you're bothering me," she replied, as if there was no hope for her to change her mind. Vegeta frowned. "All you do is sit there, and get up every now and again to either use my bathroom or eat all the food in my house! I may not be a Saiyan, but I sure as hell have to eat, too, you know! And sitting there all day? If you think that using my electricity and not helping me at all isn't bothersome, then you'd better start walking out this door right this instant!"

"What did you need help with?" he asked defiantly, trying to defend himself.

"How about you answer the door instead of just sitting there?!"

"It was only _Kakarot_ ," he mumbled under his breath.

" _Out_!"

"Hold on, Bulma," Goku said, putting up his hands to the height of his neck, palms outward. "Maybe you two can agree on something here. If Vegeta helps out more instead of being his usual lazy self, then you could let him stay."

"I never said that," Vegeta added for effect. Bulma threw him a shut-up glare and he sarcastically smirked at her.

"Bulma," Goku said again, gaining her attention once more. "Vegeta," he said, and Vegeta looked over as well, taking his eyes off of the back of Bulma's head. "Agree on something, will you?"

Bulma squinted her eyes. "Is this another part of that stupid pla—"

"Bulma!" Goku cried, and Vegeta's eyebrows rose at his insistence. Now he knew that there was something he didn't want him to know about. _Damn_ , Goku thought. "Bulma, just try it." He turned to Vegeta. "And you," he said, point an accusatory finger at him, "Stop watching TV and get your lazy hide off Bulma's couch. And don't bother her anymore because then you'll be stuck on the streets again. Got it?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, but his agreement came when he snottily hit the power button on the remote, turning off the television and sitting up straight, stretching out his back. Bulma winced when it cracked multiple times.

"So, I guess I figured out how you two were doing then," Goku said with a smile. "I'll be seeing you then," he added, before waving and turning around, walking down the front walkway to the driveway.

When Bulma closed the door, she immediately whipped around to face Vegeta.

"Get out," she said simply, pointing to the back door. Vegeta lifted a curious eyebrow at her. "Goku can't back you up anymore, so get out. I don't want you here anymore."

He stretched out on the couch, putting up his feet and faking a loud yawn. Then he stopped and turned his head upside-down to look at her. His infamous smirk was in its place. "Why don't you come over here and _make me_ ," he dared her. Bulma put on the angriest frown she could come up with, but nothing could beat Vegeta's smirk. She walked over to the side of the couch, officially pissed off.

"Get _up_ , Vegeta!" she yelled, bending down with her hands haughtily on her hips.

"Make me," he continued, still smirking up at her. His eyes seemed to be eating her alive.

"Stop undressing me with your eyes and get the hell off my couch!"

"Make me."

"Get out, Vegeta!"

"Or _what_? You're going to yell and stomp your feet like the helpless child that you are?" He was mocking the fact that he was stronger than her.

"Why can't you just get up and walk out the door, huh?" she asked, trying to reason with him, since yelling didn't seem to work. It only seemed to spark the fire in the belly of the beast. "Why do you have to make such a big deal about this? I want you out. Can't you accept that and just leave?"

"I like it here," he said, continuing to mock her.

"Stop that."

"Make me."

" _Ugh_!" Bulma cried, flinging her arms into the air as she dramatically rolled her eyes. It bothered her to no end that he could stay here and she could do nothing about it.

" _Well_ …?" Vegeta taunted. Bulma really wanted to wipe the floor with that damned smirk of his.

Before she knew what she was doing, she flung herself at him. First, her fist hit his chest. The side of her hand hurt, and his outright laugh proved that he probably didn't feel a thing. Bulma growled and punched him again. The same effect took place and her hand was now turning scarlet.

"Don't do that," Vegeta teased, standing up and facing her. Bulma couldn't back up because the coffee table was directly behind her, so when Vegeta moved in close, his muscled chest touched her plush breasts, the only thing separating them being two thin pieces of clothing. "You really are pathetic, woman," he badgered. Bulma thought about spitting on him, but it didn't seem like a very smart idea at that moment. "Do you know that?"

Bulma gasped as Vegeta moved. His big hands gently gripped the sides of her arms and she was turned around, toward the couch. He flipped her over before straddling her hips between his knees as he maneuvered himself to a comfortable position near her legs. She was face-down on the couch, her arms held behind her back as Vegeta leaned down. She felt his cool breath on her neck and he chuckled when a shiver was sent throughout her body.

He then leaned farther down, lying face-down on top of her, his chest pushing her into the couch. Bulma turned her head to the side to get some air as her breathing began to speed up. She felt her heart pounding violently and Vegeta's chuckle meant that he could feel it just the same. She felt his breathing slow and guessed that he had closed his eyes. She didn't doubt that his smirk was still glued to his face.

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but Bulma's heartbeat never slowed.

And then he was off of her. Bulma quickly flipped over, but he was already out the door.


	19. Back to School

**Chapter Eighteen: Back to School**

Bulma paced around her house for only a moment, her breathing still heavy and her heart continuing to hammer against her chest. She didn't know how it was possible for one person to have such an effect on her. She knew Vegeta was her dream boy, but this was ridiculous. She was becoming obsessive and she barely knew him. She guessed that this was probably just another part of high school life.

But as she raced back to the door and flung it open, she realized that it couldn't be something typical. Vegeta was a different species. Other than Chichi, no one could ever go through what she was feeling. And she felt so alone because Goku and Chichi were a perfectly adorable couple. While for Bulma, Vegeta and her was just some idea that danced around in her head, torturing her every time she saw his face or heard his voice.

But Bulma stood in her doorway with a soft and happy expression on her face. Vegeta stood across from her. He hadn't even gone anywhere when he exited through the door. He had just been standing outside, waiting to be let in again. Bulma got the feeling that he was just like a homeless puppy, with nowhere to go but to her. But she knew better than to think up more fantasies.

She appreciated the fact that he seemed to treat her unlike any other girl on the planet. And that had to count for something other than her own imagination. There was something there for sure. It just hadn't arrived yet, she supposed.

"Come in," she said, a bit embarrassed that not a minute ago, he had had her straddled on the couch between his legs, and his cool breath on her neck and face. She could still feel it caressing her skin.

"Are you sure?" he asked mockingly and Bulma just smiled at him a little, the gentle curve of her lips not too strong to make him think that she was hysteric.

"Come on," she urged, stepping aside with a grunt. "Unless you don't want to," she added, turning the situation around. Vegeta scoffed and made his way back to his spot on the couch.

"So, now what?" he asked, turning his gaze to the remote and then to her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head to the right.

"Kakarot said we should have a compromise," he elaborated, not minding having to go into detail for her for once. He took another fleeting glance at the remote.

"Well, obviously, you want to stay here. So what's my end of the bargain?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and trying to look reprimanding.

"What do you want?" he asked, looking at the remote again.

"If you want to watch television, Vegeta, go right ahead," she said, a threat in the back of her tone. The message that if he did something stupidly and horribly wrong, she would kick him out, didn't seem to get across to him. Bulma frowned.

"What do you want?" he repeated, a little louder. Bulma tried to soften her voice. This conversation was going to turn into another argument if she didn't watch herself.

"I want you to not act like a jerk and maybe do something that could be considered paying off your rent," she said simply. Keeping a calm voice made her seem a bit sarcastic, but neither of them minded enough to pay it any heed.

"You want _money_?" he asked, his eyebrows rising. "I would've thought you had enough…" He trailed off, looking around the large room he currently occupied.

"No, I don't want money. I said I want you to do something that could _act_ as rent, since I'm not making you _pay_ me anything. An example would be to get off your lazy behind and do some work. Doesn't Chichi ever tell you to do anything around the house?"

"She's not my mother. I don't have to obey her every command," he spat.

"I can see why you got kicked out," she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear her. "And if you do the same thing here that you do there, then I'll kick you out, too. Got it?"

"So what do you want?" he asked again, rolling his eyes. But then his eyes darted to her face and a devilish smirk was born. " _Is_ there something you want from me, woman?" he slyly asked. Bulma instantly turned red.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, it's not going to happen," she quickly responded. "What I want is some of the work load off my shoulders."

"I can do that," he said, standing up and beginning to walk towards her. "Anything _else_?"

"Yes," Bulma gulped, "Maybe you could go shopping since you seem to have a huge appetite every other hour. My house is… literally… empty…"

He was over her now, staring down at her with his sly smirk still in place. "Grocery shopping?" he asked with distaste. "Maybe I could get to do something else while you do that part? I could… make your bed. Or wash the sheets?" He sarcastically shrugged. "But then they'd have to be dirty, first."

"Sheets?" Bulma said, trying to change the subject. "I could leave you with some laundry if you don't want to go shopping. But then you'd better have some work done by the time I get back. That means _no_ television."

Vegeta sighed and moved back to the couch, sitting down. "If you're really going to make me do a bunch of stupid things, why not assign me something that I can actually help you with?" he asked, rolling his head back.

"What do you mean? You will be helping me by doing some laundry."

"No. I mean something more… for _me_."

"I don't understand."

"You said before that I'm not a person. And laundry sounds like a _person_ -thing to me. So, why not give me something that _I_ can do but you have trouble with, instead of menial tasks that can easily classify as _busy_ _work_?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Vegeta, when I said you weren't a person, I was being stupid. I didn't think before I spoke."

"I'd rather have it that way, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what _are_ you talking about?"

"I'm a _Saiyan_ , woman! I could crumple that piece of shit you call your car in less than a minute! What do you _think_ I mean?"

"So you want to show off?" she asked, folding her arms. Her next comment came out more sarcastic that she had originally expected. "You want me to give you a task that requires you to use your great big muscles and your other genuinely amazing talents instead of laundry, which can actually help me?" She rolled her eyes. "That's not helpful. That's idiotic."

"All you want me to do is laundry?" he asked and Bulma sighed, unfolding her arms. "I could use my other genuinely amazing talents when you come _back_ ," he added with a smirk. Bulma ignored him and turned around.

"The baskets are upstairs. I think they're full already. And don't break anything, will you?"

Vegeta looked away in an effort to say that he hadn't heard her. Bulma scoffed and headed for the stairs.

When she made it to her bedroom, she shut the door behind her and began to change her clothes into something more fit for the public eye. When she came back to her closed door, she noticed that she hadn't locked it. That was odd. She always locked her bedroom door when she changed, even when she was all alone in the house.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she headed back to her room and grabbed her purse. On her way back down the stairs, Vegeta rounded the corner at the platform and she bumped into him, falling ever so slightly.

"Sorry," she quickly said, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder and lightly pushing off of his delightfully firm chest to steady herself.

"Don't be," he said, and he continued his way up the stairs.

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Vegeta sat in the living room, staring at the blank television screen for what seemed like forever. He thought about turning it on for a few minutes. It wasn't like Bulma was going to come home right away and catch him. He had a good amount of time to waste, and laundry took so damn long to finish.

He had successfully completed one load of laundry, the sheets. The other two in the washer and dryer were her clothes. He had a bit of fun throwing them into the machine, but it didn't last very long. He figured out that she was a 36-C size bra, and she had a lot of black underwear, but other than that, it was just a drag. Laundry was still menial work, no matter how many bras and panties you threw in with it.

But the lack of television was what had been irking him. Why didn't he just turn the damn thing on and watch something to pass the time? Who cares if Bulma said not to? He was the Prince of all Saiyans. He didn't take orders from _anyone_.

Huffing and unfolding his arms, he reached for the remote.

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The next day, Bulma woke up on time without any Saiyan maniacs in bed with her. Vegeta had held up his end of the bargain and remained downstairs for the night.

She had over a half an hour to get ready for school, but her stomach was already in knots. Goku had said that a group of people had caught Vegeta here and had seen his motorcycle in her driveway. That meant that by the time school started again this morning, everyone was going to know about it. It also meant that everyone knew that they both hadn't attended classes yesterday. There was going to be a lot of lies and even more gossip. Bulma didn't want that, but she couldn't just stay away for the rest of her life. She had to face the drama eventually. No questions asked.

She stretched her arms over her head as she walked down the stairs. She was a little excited for breakfast. Her shopping the prior day hadn't caused her to meet up with anyone from school, luckily. But she had managed to get a bunch of different cereals to occupy her breakfast time.

She pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and poured them into a bowl. She got a spoon and poured the milk, but her mind didn't seem to be all there for her.

Finishing breakfast, Bulma walked into the living room and rolled her eyes at Vegeta. He was sprawled upside-down on the couch, one arm hanging off the side, the other off the front. His one leg was almost on the floor, and his foot seemed to have caught the blanket and dragged it along with his leg. His shirt was ruffled up to his ribs, showing off the lean muscles in his back. His pants fell a good couple inches below his stomach, so Bulma could see the top of his hip bones. His hair was about the same as usual. The only difference from his usual black spikes was a small cowlick to the left of his forehead.

Bulma charged up her confidence level and walked over to his side. She bent down and shook his shoulder a little. He made a low grunting sound and Bulma got down on her knees so her mouth was closer to his ear.

"Time to get up. I have to leave in half an hour," she whispered to him. From experience with her father, she knew that men never liked to be woken up unless it was for something important. So the best thing to do was whisper. Talking normally would only get them angry; Vegeta included.

"I'll skip," he groaned, and Bulma could tell from the lift of his chest that saying those two words had caused him great difficulty. She sighed and shook his shoulder again.

"No you're not. When I leave, you aren't allowed to be here anymore. So, unless if you want to sleep outside, you'd better get up right now."

His hand came up fast and almost wacked Bulma in the face as he moved to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He flipped over and Bulma couldn't help but notice that his shirt came up even more as he maneuvered himself on the couch. His pants must have lowered a fraction of a centimeter as well. If there were no such things as virtue and morals, Bulma would have jumped on him then and there.

"This is painful," he groaned, not fully awake yet. "It feels like there are nails in my back."

"You were lying on your _stomach_ ," Bulma pointed out, standing up and looking down at him. His eyes were partially opened, just enough to squint at her. He hadn't adjusted to the light yet either.

"I flipped over," he said defensively.

"Come on. Get up. I have to take a shower and I won't be down here to wake you up until there's no more time left. So come _on_." She grabbed his wrist and tugged a little to get her point across.

"Fine," he grumbled, sitting up and wiping his eyes again. "What's for breakfast?" he asked.

"Whatever I got yesterday. Pick a cereal. And you can only open _one_ box. Got it?"

He nodded sleepily and swung his legs over the edge of the couch. "If you need any help in the shower, call me," he said lazily, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

Bulma rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs.

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Pulling into the parking lot, Bulma could feel her face heating up. Vegeta clearly didn't understand what _keep your distance_ meant. She had told him to follow her five minutes after she left the house. Instead, he left her house less than a minute after she did and then he sped up so he could pull into Orange Star High's parking lot in his recognizable motorcycle, right next to her small white car.

People were watching her left and right. She noticed that more people were looking at her than were looking at Vegeta. She didn't exactly like all the attention. She didn't even want to know what the rumors were about why she and Vegeta didn't come to school the previous day.

Vegeta didn't mind anything at all. Bulma guessed that a regular day for Vegeta included being ogled by girls and stared at by everyone.

"Happy Wednesday, Bulma," a familiar voice said. Bulma turned around to find none other than Goku. Chichi was nowhere to be found.

"Same to you," she replied sourly. She didn't want to be reminded of how many days until the weekend. It was all going to be one living hell.

"Hi, Vegeta," Goku said, waving to his Saiyan companion. Vegeta responded with a slight wave, but he didn't even look at Goku. Bulma supposed that Goku never got much more than that because of his return smile as he turned back to her. "How are you two getting along?" he asked. "I see you decided not to make him homeless again."

"She wouldn't have done it anyway," Vegeta said, shoving down his kickstand and pushing his keys into his pocket.

"Beggars can't be choosers," Bulma spat delicately, sticking out her tongue.

Goku laughed. "Well, I'll see you two inside, I guess. I have to go meet up with Chichi for first period." He waved and set off for the front entrance to the high school.

Bulma wondered if her raven-haired friend was still mad at her as she slowly walked to the school building. She hoped not, but she wouldn't bet that everything was fine and dandy. Hoping was all she could do. And it was obvious that Goku had come to say hello without Chichi at his side. So that meant that she elected to stay away and wait inside for Goku to finish his hellos.

"Hey there, Bulma," a boy she didn't know said, winking at her as he passed, walking in the opposite direction. Bulma didn't respond.

"How's it goin'?" a girl said sourly, leaning up against the hood of her F-250 white Ford four-door long bed truck. "Reelin' in some big fish there, eh? That one's probably the biggest fucker in the whole school. But you would know that already after last night, wouldn't you?"

Bulma lightly gasped and began to walk faster, trying to look at the ground every time someone looked like they were about to say something to her. She avoided eye contact with everyone until a hand grabbed her upper arm.

She knew the feeling of Vegeta's hand, so she calmly glanced up, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Stop acting like you turned into Maron overnight, will you?" he grumbled, letting go of her arm and pocketing his hands. "You look like you're guilty of robbing a bank."

"What do you care?" she asked.

"I don't care, but I'm not an idiot, woman. I know why you're acting like this. I know what these morons are thinking right now. I'm not deaf either. I can hear what they're _saying_. So quit acting like all we did yesterday was fuck each other and start acting _normal._ If you keep acting guilty, then I'll be labeled as such as well. Understand?"

Bulma nodded after regaining her composure from hearing Vegeta say, "fuck each other" and forced her head up, looking around and meeting a few of the gazes that were directed at her. Vegeta was harsh, but he was right. She shouldn't act like she had done something wrong when she never did.

"Thanks," she whispered. Vegeta smirked and took her hand. Bulma's eyes popped at his gesture. As he led her through the parking lot, for the rest of the way to the entrance, Bulma caught sight of Chichi walking with Goku. After a split second, they were inside the building, gone from her view.

"What are you doing?" she asked, once they, too, were inside the building.

"What are you talking about now, woman?" he asked, yawning with his free hand over his mouth.

"I'm talking about you holding my hand. Doesn't that mean something to you? Because it means something to me."

"To me, it means that I need to escort you to the building because your self-conscious attitude was getting you nowhere. _And_ I was getting annoyed by your insecurity," he added mockingly.

"You just said you're not an idiot," she stated, "And I think that means that you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about when I asked why you're holding my hand."

"And you don't like it?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her. Bulma flushed. That wasn't what she meant at all. "Well, woman? Do you or don't you?"

Bulma couldn't respond. She would never admit to anything related to how she felt about him. That would just ruin everything. She would rather have him as a friend than nothing at all. But still, he had acted first. He was always the one to act first. Maybe now it was time for _her_ to do something.

"Yes," she answered, lifting her chin and squeezing her hand in his. "But my point was that if we hold hands, it will be labeled that _I'm_ your girlfriend and _you're_ my boyfriend. That was all I was trying to say, Vegeta. I didn't think you would have agreed to such a thing," she said, forcing the words out of her throat.

Instantaneously, he let her hand go and spun away from her, walking away at a quick pace. Almost as if he was desperately rushing to get away from her.

The first thing she thought of was that she was still in his way of going home. Admitting that he liked her would douse any flames of hope he had of every completing his mission and returning home to his people. She regretted her senseless behavior in bringing up the boyfriend/girlfriend issue, but he _had_ taken her hand of his own free will.

Maybe there had been a reason as to why he was always the first one to act.


	20. Chastity

**Chapter Nineteen: Chastity**

English had passed with no remorse. Vegeta didn't acknowledge her existence and he had ignored her when she had tried to apologize to him for what she had said. She couldn't tell if he was purposefully ignoring her to make her feel worse than she already did, or if his mind was just in another place or time. She would rather have him ignore her.

Human behavior passed by even slower. Chichi had walked in late, wearing black high-heel boots, black leggings and a gray and blue dress that looked more like a shirt since it didn't reach past the bottom of her hips. She got many daring looks from the boys in the class, but she didn't care. In fact, she looked like she had been enjoying their intimate glances at her. This wasn't like Chichi at all. If Bulma hadn't known any better, she would have thought that Chichi was single, and parading herself around in search of a boyfriend. She wondered how Goku felt about her attire today.

And then Chichi had taken her seat and ignored Bulma, just like Vegeta had. Bulma had never felt so hated and alone in her entire life. She wondered if this happened to a lot of people in high school. She knew her parents would never do such a thing to her. They would never ignore her or look away when she tried to apologize. They would all sit down and talk until the situation had been resolved. This obviously wasn't what happened in a high school.

But math class wasn't as boring as she thought it would have been. Bulma enjoyed not having anyone she knew in the class most of the time, but now it had turned into a living hell. The boys in the class all mocked her and the girls giggled and purposefully talked loudly about things that revealed that they firmly believed that she and Vegeta had actually skipped school do have sex for an entire day. Some were blatantly jealous, but most were just being jackasses in general.

One of Sharpner's cronies had stood up for her, claiming that he talked with Vegeta himself and heard the truth from him. Bulma knew this wasn't true because of his recent attitude towards her and the bringing up of all his life problems earlier in the morning. It wouldn't be likely that Vegeta would want to talk with anyone other than Goku; and even that was a stretch. But still, there was one person in the class who didn't want to gossip and tell lies just for entertainment.

Now she was in Chemistry and the pregnant teacher had been sending harsh glares her way for the past half an hour. Bulma wished the bell would just ring already and let her leave the classroom. She felt like all the glares she was receiving from this particular class were burning holes through her shirt and skin, revealing everything underneath. Her face felt like it was on fire and she really wanted a drink of water. She kept swallowing hard to compensate for her dry throat.

And it didn't help that Vegeta was taking a quiet nap next to her. He wasn't awake to scare some of the boys in the class out of staring at her chest. Apparently, being labeled as a sex machine invoked the right for other people to take advantage of her embarrassed state of mind. She hated it, but there was nothing she could do with the teacher's heated glare always returning to her to make sure she wasn't doing anything that could possibly earn her a detention.

As soon as the bell rang, Vegeta lifted his head from between his folded arms on the desk, grabbed his pencil and single notebook, and walked out of the class without a single word to her. Unfortunately, Maron wasn't in the same mood. Her hand suddenly pushing down on Bulma's shoulder made her spin around, and angry look on her face.

"And just what in the world do you want?" she spat, finding Yamcha directly behind Maron, shuffling a little to the right so he could see Bulma's face as she spoke. What a puppy dog, she disappointedly thought.

"I was just wondering if you were so good last night that you actually made him that tired," she asked innocently. When enough people were looking over at them, clogging up the exit so other people who hadn't been listening would turn around to watch the show. Bulma didn't see Vegeta in that crowd. "Or is it that you were so bad that he's already that bored with your fat and untrained body? You obviously were a virgin before now. But even I don't understand how such a talented boy as Vegeta would want to waste his time with an un-popped cherry such as yourself."

Bulma turned redder than before and clutched her hands at her sides. Giggles and chuckles came from the door and it looked as if the pregnant teacher had already moved on to a different classroom for the next period. No one was in the room but students.

Bulma saw her chance and violently spun her hand around and backhanded Maron across the face. She sprawled to the right side and Yamcha was so dumbfounded that he didn't even bend down to help her up. Bulma heard more laughs from the door and was satisfied that they weren't directed at her. She then spun around and glared at everyone.

"Vegeta was kicked out of his home, so I allowed him to stay with me in mine," she said simply, but then she couldn't help but raise her voice. "We aren't anything but _friends_! Do you understand? Stop spreading rumors about me, because I don't like it! I never had sex with him, so stop treating me like I'm _Maron_! Unlike her, I'm _proud_ of who I am, and I don't want all of you to try and ruin that! If you want to treat someone like a whore, then do it to Maron! I saw her in the girls' bathroom Monday morning going at it with Yamcha, here! If you want to gossip about something, make it _true_ at least! And keep me out of it! _You got that_?!" She finished with a huff and stalked out of the room, not bothering to see the expressions on everyone's faces.

"After all that and you said we're just friends?" Vegeta asked and she whipped around, angry at him for not doing anything for the entire day to stand up for her. And she wasn't going to forgive him that easily. "You really have a way of confusing me, woman."

He was leaning against the open door of the Chemistry room, his arms folded and his eyes on the floor. It was clear that he had been listening by his defensive posture and countenance.

"You're not the only one," she forcefully said. "And I forgot to thank you for standing up for me all day. You were really a lifesaver." She began to walk away, but paused to add one last thing that she knew would prove how angry she really was. "And _yes_ , we are only friends, Vegeta. And if you care enough to keep it that way, take this warning seriously, because our friendship might not last… And don't bother coming to my house after school. You're not welcome there anymore."

And then she walked fast, trying to get to her locker and gym class before the bell rang and she was late.

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The teachers assigned volleyball as the sport for the day. Only Goku said a few nice words to her, but he was dragged away by Chichi to be reprimanded for his actions. Later on, he had thrown Bulma an apologetic glance to say he was sorry and didn't want to be part of her loneliness. Bulma mentally forgave him, but she couldn't forgive Vegeta. Chichi was still upset and always seemed to have a way to make Bulma feel even worse. Like when they had to go get their volleyballs and Chichi had backed out of the way to allow Bulma to pick hers first.

Not even the other students would talk to her. Apparently her speech last period had been the new form of gossip. That hadn't been what she had meant, but it was better than being treated like Maron. No one even looked at her. She avoided having to hit the ball, and continuously pushed herself back in rotation so she wouldn't have to serve the ball to the other team.

"Bulma, why didn't you get that one?" a voice called, pulling her from her trance. She looked up and over to find Sharpner looking at her.

"Excuse me?" she asked, folding her arms. If this was another one of his tricks, she was going to have to make another speech. She could already picture the words coming to mind. She mentally smirked like the devil himself.

"I asked why you didn't hit the ball over the net. It was sort of in your area," he said, but noticed her uptight expression. "Come on, Bulma," he added, shrugging with a friendly smile, "It was… _sort_ of."

Bulma rolled her eyes and looked away, pushing away any thoughts of smiling at him in return. She had to admit that the thought had crossed her mind. She heard him laugh a little behind her and couldn't help but hide a small smile.

"I heard about you and Vegeta," he said, and Bulma jumped. He had been across the court only moments ago and now he was right behind her. It reminded her of… Vegeta.

Bulma crossed her arms as she looked at him. "If you're going to talk to me like I'm some cheap—"

"No no no no no," he said quickly, putting up his arms as if in defense. "Bulma, I meant I heard about him staying at your house. I heard the rumors, too, but I never believed them. Not for a second. I hoped that you would know that. I know you're better than that."

"Better than _what_ , exactly?" Bulma asked suspiciously.

"Listen, I understand that you're going through a rough time right now, but I just wanted you to know that I'm not against you. I might not always be with you, because you know I don't really approve of Vegeta, but I'd never purposefully try to hurt you, Bulma." He paused and looked around the gymnasium before continuing. "And I couldn't help but notice that you're not playing on the same volleyball court as Vegeta or Goku and Chichi. If something isn't right between you guys, and you ever need a friend…" He didn't finish his statement and Bulma guessed it was because of the glare she was using on him. She decided that he wasn't really offending her in any way. He was genuinely trying to be nice, and she should be more appreciative than that.

Bulma let a small, yet fake smile crease her lips and softened her expression as much as she could manage without cracking in half with the effort. "That's really sweet of you," she said softly, "And I appreciate it. A _lot_. You don't know how much that means to me, to hear that from someone right now. I needed it… Thank you, Sharpner."

"Any time," he said, returning her smile in kind. He kept his eyes on her as he walked back over to his side of the court. "Now, how about you hit that ball?" he called, and Bulma laughed. She was surprised to find herself genuinely beginning to feel a little better.

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Bulma paid for her lunch and started walking out of the lunchroom's buffet line with her blue tray. She had a slice of pizza, a Snapple Apple and a small serving of fries. It was the lunch for the day. Not very original, in her point of view.

But as she held her tray of food and tried to adjust her purse strap on her shoulder without her hands, she realized that her table probably didn't welcome her anymore. A bald kid with a bagel and cream cheese was in her usual spot. Chichi and Goku sat next to each other and Bulma felt a wave of ice cover her heart when Chichi was laughing wholeheartedly and leaning on her boyfriend. Vegeta had a smirk on his face. Apparently, the joke that had been told was pretty funny. Bulma had to hold in tears. What did she do to deserve this? She couldn't figure it out. She hadn't done anything wrong.

She glanced straight ahead to find Maron's table. She was sitting in Yamcha's lap as he finger-fed her French fries. She seductively licked his finger and pulled it deeper into her mouth as the others at their table cheered her on. A little to the left was a table with a bunch of guys at it that wouldn't stop staring at her. She looked at the ground and took one step forward, but someone coming out of the buffet line bumped her shoulder. Her blue tray came out of her right hand and her pizza splattered upside-down on the tiled cafeteria floor. Red sauce spurted in every direction, staining her shoes.

"Oops. _Sorry,_ loser." It was Angela, the orange-haired girl that had almost ripped out her hair at Chichi's party.

Bulma kept her head down and made her way to the garbage can, throwing out her fries. She grabbed her can of Snapple and dropped off her tray before exiting the cafeteria.

She made her way to her locker and grabbed her books for next period. She then opened her can and chugged as much as she could in less than a minute. She tossed her can in the nearest recycling bin and walked the short distance to the library. She dropped off her bags and purse at an empty table and exited the large room.

When she was safely hiding in the girls' bathroom, she pulled out her phone and went through her contacts, searching for a specific number: her mother. She wanted to get out of here and she wanted to do it now. This was all her parents fault. They told her that this would be a wonderful opportunity to expand her social life. It currently seemed like she didn't have one anymore. And after she had met such nice people, they already hated her.

Except for Vegeta.

She saw his number and his name in red, labeling him as an emergency contact in her phone. Bulma remembered that she had switched him to the last emergency contact, below both her parents. But before that, he had set himself as the first. That openly said that he wanted to be called first if anything happened to her. He had made an unexpected declaration that he was more capable of taking care of her than her own parents.

And she told him that they were nothing more than friends. She told him not to come back to her house and to generally leave her alone. He never showed her that he had any intentions of ever hating her. She was an obstacle for him, but not one that he wanted to just jump over and leave in his dust. She was a sense of confusion for him, a way of making him weigh what was more important in his life. She represented the choice between herself and all the people on the planet, or Vegeta's own pride and returning home to be congratulated and welcomed as a royal hero.

She closed her phone and exited the bathroom. She put her phone in her pocket and walked down the hallway, not ready to have to sit down and do nothing. She heard footsteps coming her way and paused. She had forgotten all about hall monitors. She didn't want to get in trouble again.

But when she turned, she found Sharpner. She wondered why she wasn't surprised at all to see him there.

"Bulma, what are you doing?" he asked. "I saw Angela hit you and next thing I knew you were gone. What happened? I was calling for you to come sit with me and my friends. I, uh, saw how you weren't going to sit with Goku and those guys, so I thought maybe… you know," he rubbed the back of his head and smiled at his own embarrassment.

"You were a real jerk at Chichi's party," Bulma said, and then wondered why it had come out so naturally. "You tried to hurt 18 and you were trying to hurt Vegeta, too."

"The party?" he said in confusion. "You mean when I saw Maron go upstairs, talking about how she and her friends were going to take advantage of Vegeta because he was drunk and alone?" he asked, clarifying for and defending himself. "And besides, why would I want to hurt Vegeta anyway? I've got nothing against the guy. I just didn't want Maron doing anything that would bring cops to Chichi's house. That would have been a disaster. Especially because there were drinks there. I didn't want her getting in trouble for just wanting to have a little fun, you know?"

Bulma didn't quite believe him, but nodded her agreement nonetheless. But then she saw someone else rounding the corner in a rage. She wasn't surprised to find that it was Vegeta, either.

"What do you think you're doing, _Sharpner_?" he spat, stomping up to the blonde boy. The fact that Vegeta was shorter than him didn't seem to lessen the frightened expression on his face. "And you say you have nothing against me? Then why are you trying to piss me off so much?" his voice was slowly getting louder and angrier.

"At least I'm not making my girlfriend have to run from the cafeteria because she feels alone," he dared to spit back.

"And how would you know how she feels, _pretty-boy_?"

"Vegeta," Bulma intervened, putting up a hand. She had to remind herself that this was the same Vegeta that she had been thinking about only a couple minutes ago. "Sharpner was only trying to help. He saw that I was upset and came here because he wanted to see if I was alright."

"I'm sure he made it seem so," Vegeta replied heatedly. "But this bastard always wants something for himself. Take it from the expert."

"The expert, huh?" Sharpner replied with a laugh. "And expert of _what_? Hurting the people that care about you? Is this how you treat all you girlfriends, or just this one?" Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you something, Vegeta. Bulma is one of the nicest girls I've ever met, and for you to do something so heartless to her, you shouldn't be forgiven. And even though I know Bulma won't blame you because she's compassionate, I just want to let you know that it's not something that _I'm_ prepared to tolerate. She isn't just another girl that you can take advantage of. You _got that_?"

"The only thing I've got is a pain in my ass, Sharpner. I know you. I know what you're really like, and I'll be fucked to hell before I let you use Bulma like you used Chastity."

Sharpner jumped and Bulma wondered who Vegeta was talking about. She had never heard the name before. Sharpner opened his mouth to speak, but stuttered.

"Chastity… She was different… She wasn't… She didn't have a very good relationship with her parents… She had been confused about what was happening to her… I tried to _help_ her!"

"And you see where that got her," Vegeta replied quietly, absorbed in his thoughts for a moment. When he lifted his head, Bulma knew that the argument wasn't over just yet. "You don't even know where she is, do you?"

"Do _you_?"

"No, but at least I tried to _find_ her. You just moved onto the next available girl you could get your filthy hands on!"

"Are you kidding me, Vegeta?" he asked, sarcastic shock written all over his face. "I tried contacting her for _months_!"

"Oh, is that _it_!" he yelled, rolling his eyes. "I'm still looking for her. It didn't take me a couple months to just give up on her! I try to contact her once a week at the least, and I won't stop until I find her!"

"Haven't you realized it by now? I stopped after a couple months because it was clear to me that she didn't _want_ to be found. She didn't want anything to do with me anymore, so I gave her what she wanted. I left her alone. I told her where I would be if she needed me. I told her to never be afraid to come back if she felt like she could. But I left her alone, and she never tried to contact me again since then. Chastity doesn't _want_ you to find her, Vegeta. She doesn't want to have anything to _do_ with you. You ruined her life once, and now she wants to be set free."

"Me? _Me_?! _You_ ruined her life, you fucking bastard! You took her heart and smashed it right in front of her face! She's hiding because she's _afraid_ and she doesn't want me to find her because she's _afraid_. She's terrified that everything you did to her will come flooding back to her and take her to her knees again."

"I'm not having this conversation with you anymore," Sharpner said, turning on his heel. "We both know whose fault it was that Chastity ran away. We both know why she never came back. It's done and over with. It happened a long time ago and it isn't something I just want to randomly bring up again after all this time. And I especially don't want to talk about it with you and your fattened-up ego. It's enough to have to remember what happened, but to be blamed as if it was all my fault by you and that horrible tone of yours… It's repulsive."

"Well then let's talk about something else!" Vegeta shouted, stepping forward so that he was between Bulma and Sharpner. "Stay away from Bulma." Sharpner turned to face Vegeta with a smirk on his face.

"Or _what_?" he asked cockily.

Vegeta spread his legs and put his tightened fists at his sides. A spark of gold flashed all around him and Sharpner jumped back, feeling the tremendous amount of heat emanating from the Saiyan's body.

" _Or I'll kill you_."


	21. Early Retreat

**Chapter Twenty: Early Retreat**

Bulma sighed and put her hands on her hips. Vegeta was still emanating flashes of golden heat from his body and Sharpner had left them alone over ten minutes ago. Luckily for Goku, and Vegeta and his big secret, no one was around but the two of them.

The bell was about to ring, indicating that lunch would be over. But Vegeta didn't seem to notice anything but himself. He was so absorbed in his own anger. Bulma was beginning to think that he disremembered the simple fact that she was walking behind him as he headed for his locker. She guessed that his lunch was either finished or overlooked because he never even made a move to show that he might go back to the cafeteria.

His fists at his sides, Vegeta stomped up to his locker and turned the lock to put in his combination. Bulma had the urge to check what it was over his shoulder, but didn't dare take the chance that he might snap at her. His anger was in a compressed bottle. All he had to do was unscrew the cap a bit and he would certainly explode. She just had to wait for him to fizzle out.

It had been a surprise to see Vegeta use such force, but the whole Chastity story wasn't making all that much sense to Bulma. She didn't even know who the girl was or what had happened to her. Or, most importantly, what did she mean to Vegeta? Was she an old friend, an ex-girlfriend or just someone who Vegeta met on the street one day? Bulma knew her curiosity had been spiked, but that wasn't good enough. She wanted answers. And the worst part about it was that her answer guru was currently not speaking with her, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about a possible-ex of Vegeta's with Vegeta. It wasn't just risky. It was suicide.

Vegeta kicked his locker when it didn't open the first time. Bulma jumped and touched her chest with a hand to try and slow her heart down a bit. She watched as her dream boy attempted to put in his combo again.

Then the bell rang and Vegeta let out a low growl. After another few seconds, his locker popped open and Bulma couldn't help but release a quiet sigh of relief for the poor metal door.

She, too, had to go to her locker. It was down the hallway, but then she had to come back to get to her History class. If she wanted to make it on time, she would have to get to her locker sometime soon. She decided that Vegeta wasn't paying any attention to her anyway, so she turned and started off.

The halls instantly began filling with people from classes and from the lunchroom. She didn't see anyone familiar, so she stiffened her shoulders and hoped that she wouldn't get knocked over in the stampede. When she made it to her locker, she felt like slumping to the ground and taking a short snooze, but she didn't have the time for anything like that. She put in her three-number combination, grabbed her books and bags and slammed the locker closed with force. It slammed and she satisfyingly made her way back down the hallway. She noticed Goku's spiky hair up ahead, but he was too far away for her to even try to catch up with him. And she wouldn't want to meet up with Chichi by accident as well, so she wouldn't have made the attempt had he been two steps away.

In one second, Bulma was looking around at all the unfamiliar faces, and in the next second, she was walking next to Vegeta. Or he was walking next to her. But either way, it had still been unexpected on her part. She didn't think he had been paying any attention to where she was.

"I'm sorry about before," she said, getting her apology out of the way before something else happened. And she didn't want to make a scene in History class either. She couldn't wait to be in a class with Vegeta, Sharpner and Yamcha. Ugh. It was going to be the worst part of her entire day. She could just feel it.

"For what?" Vegeta asked, not turning to her. Bulma thought he would have known. It hadn't been that long ago that she had yelled at him. Maybe he thought she had been joking.

"For saying that you couldn't stay at my house anymore. I didn't mean it. I don't want you to have to sleep outside. So I take back what I said."

"All of it?"

Bulma paused. Was there something she wasn't getting? Why would he ask that unless she had said something else during her tirade? She racked her brain for the memory and recalled saying that she didn't want to be anything but friends with him. She had also been confused enough to say that friends was a bit of a stretch. She didn't mean that either. And she knew that this was definitely more difficult for him than it was for her. This planet was her home. She didn't know what she would do if she was in his shoes. It would be rough for her to admit that she would never see her parents or friends again. She felt like she was starting to get where he was coming from. And she knew that the best thing she could do right now was to be gentle with his head.

"Yes," she replied. "All of it." It was a simple enough answer and it got the message across relatively easy.

"I don't want you talking to Sharpner anymore," he said, and Bulma couldn't help but realize that it had come out quickly. It wasn't as fluid as when Vegeta usually spoke to her. It was different and she knew that it wasn't the type of thing he was used to saying.

"Why not?" she asked. Knowing very well that the competition between the two boys was unmistakable, she knew that it was the wrong thing to say. But she couldn't help but take a neutral stance. She wasn't going to favor Vegeta's side of the argument. She didn't even know what happened to the girl. And as far as she was concerned, Sharpner had been very nice to her when no one talked to her and all people did were point and stare at her. Even Vegeta hadn't been there for her.

"Did you hear me, woman?" Vegeta asked. They stopped outside the History classroom. Bulma had paused when she noticed that Vegeta wasn't going to enter until he got what he wanted, and she didn't just want to turn away from him. "I guess you didn't get my point. _Don't talk to him anymore_. If you can help it, avoid that bastard altogether."

"Vegeta, he never did anything to me. Why are you so defensive? I understand that maybe things between you two aren't all peachy, but that doesn't mean that you have to drag me into it all. I don't want to be involved in your feud with Sharpner. I want to be able to make the decision of whether or not he's a good guy or not on my own. That's not too much to ask."

"Why would you want to find out for yourself if I'm giving you the answer right now?" Vegeta asked sarcastically. Bulma wondered why every conversation they had always involved an argument. And the sardonic expression that was currently on Vegeta's face always seemed to pop up when they spoke with one another. "Think of this as something beneficial for him, then."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you don't stay away from him, then I'll kill him. So think of you obeying my request as protecting his life. Although in this case, I would much rather you try and speak with him again. And I'll even throw in a warning. I'm not giving you _second chances_ , woman. You speak to him once and I'll rip his head off his shoulders. And don't think I can't do it, because you know I can."

"Are you seriously telling me that your alien powers are now blackmailing me?"

"No, I'm telling you that my Saiyan abilities are no match for a pathetic Earthling. And I'm even offering to show you what I mean by ridding myself of the most annoying Earthling on this putrid planet. All you have to do is walk up to him and open that loud mouth of yours."

"Excuse me? I started talking to you to apologize for what I said before and now you're insulting me? You're a _joke_."

"Maybe I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, woman. Did you ever think of that?"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she asked, her chin raising ever-so-slightly in rebelliousness.

"You're making both Kakarot and my life a living _hell_. That's what it means! The fucking raven is going to be the death of us, I swear!"

"Chichi…?" Bulma said, trailing off. Geez, did everyone know about what was going on between them? Was Vegeta aware of why they weren't talking?

But before her face could turn red, as usual, Vegeta shoved her inside the classroom and as she was about to turn around to demand to know what his problem was, the bell rang, signaling the start of their History class. Everyone else in their seats, including Mr. Gohan, were looking at her, awaiting her to take her seat. She sighed in defeat, feeling her face heat up anyway.

Vegeta walked past her with an annoyed look on his face and Bulma put her head down and followed him to two conveniently-placed desks, side-by-side in the middle of the classroom. Bulma just knew that some people were out to get her when Sharpner was sitting in the desk to her right and Yamcha was behind Vegeta, who had taken his seat on the leftmost desk. Bulma placed her notebook and textbook on her tan desk and set her bags down under her blue, metal chair. The metal beams uncomfortably made it so that anyone who sat in the chair wouldn't be able to stretch or move freely.

"Hey, Bulma," Sharpner said quickly and chirpily, but his tone and the way his eyes flicked back and forth proved that he was only trying to taunt Vegeta. Bulma sighed at her own insolence. Vegeta had been right. Vegeta was always right. She looked down at her yellow pencil and didn't respond. Even if he wasn't such a nice guy, she didn't want Vegeta to kill him because of some stupid pronouncement he had made to her. She wouldn't wish death on anyone, not even a boy like Sharpner.

Vegeta didn't even flinch at Sharpner's taunt. It was as if he didn't hear anything.

Mr. Gohan pulled out his chair with a loud squeak from the metal scraping against the tiled floor, stood and walked to the front of the room. He grabbed a piece of chalk and removed his glasses, facing the class.

Bulma wasn't listening as he began to give a lecture on problems in Europe right before America was discovered, but she opened her notebook to give the illusion that his words weren't going in one ear and coming out the other without a second thought. In fact, she didn't even have a first thought about anything he was saying. All she could seem to focus on was the electric pulses going through her because she was between two thunderstorms. Although, she had to admit that Vegeta's electricity was just about tangible while Sharpner's was mostly in her mind, to counter the intoxicating effect Vegeta was having on her. She mentally shook her head with force, unwillingly thinking about testosterone.

"Hey, Erasa," Sharpner said to a blonde girl on his right. "You want to know what I saw last period in the hallway?" Erasa didn't respond, but Bulma was paying full attention to his following words. Sharpner couldn't know about Goku and Vegeta, so he would just be spreading more false rumors… Wouldn't he?

"Last period, Vegeta got a little angry, and I saw those sparks again," he said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't get caught by Mr. Gohan. "You know, the ones from the party? But these were even _flashier_. It was like a big light show in the middle of Orange Star High. You should have seen it. It was almost… _inhuman_. Maybe we could ask Vegeta to do it again for us, huh? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Bulma listened as more people focused on what Sharpner was saying. They wouldn't believe such things, would they? She would have never believed it in a million years if she hadn't witnessed it on her own. First was when he saved her from the fire in the school. It seemed like forever ago now, but he had ripped the door from its hinges when she couldn't even make it budge. The other times were when he had her against the wall in Chichi's bedroom and when he had her on the couch in her very own living room. If she couldn't feel his power then, then she would have had to be the stupidest person on the planet.

But now that she thought about it, she'd never seen him actually do anything worth mentioning besides opening a door that was stuck. She thought about it all being a lie, but she knew that wasn't true. She could feel his energy when they were alone in her house. She could feel his heat when he got emotionally charged, whether it be anger or excitement that got him going. But either way, she knew.

More people began to look in Vegeta's direction and Bulma felt like lashing out at Sharpner with her sharp nails. She looked down at her hands. Her nails weren't just long, but rough. She had chipped a few earlier in the day, so they were jagged along some of the edges. She was sure she would be able to draw blood from his face with a few of the points and hooks. She felt like she had blades for nails. Or maybe even talons.

The rest of History class had passed by slowly. Bulma had tried taking notes for ten minutes, but she didn't get any of the information other than meaningless letters and words. Mr. Gohan had a tendency to speak with his back to the class, so Bulma didn't try to look like she was paying any attention anyway. It didn't matter anymore.

Most of the girls in the class were whispering to one another about Vegeta being like Superman. One made a bold comment that she would love to introduce him to kryptonite for a night at her house when her parents weren't home. Another even claimed that she was related to a great, great grandmother that was known as the Lois Lane of the century in her hometown. Bulma had even caught Vegeta chuckling after that statement had been made. She threw him a glare to tell him to mind his own business.

Vegeta didn't even have his notebook out. There was nothing on his desk but his elbows, propped up to keep his head from rolling around as he napped through the entire class. Bulma still didn't know how he could do that for the entire day and not get caught by a single teacher.

When the bell rang, Vegeta stood instantaneously and picked up Bulma's bags for her. He handed them to her with a sarcastic smirk. And under his breath, he sarcastically mumbled, "For you, Miss _Lane_." Bulma rolled her eyes and greedily snatched her bags from him with a snort. Why did he have to listen to other people's conversations anyway?

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

During spanish, all Bulma could think about was Chichi. Maybe Vegeta was right. She never even apologized to her raven-haired friend. Out of all the things she could have done, all she did was avoid her and try not to get in her way. But she had been the one to make the rude and uninvited comments, so she was the one at fault.

Sure, Chichi could be a little overdramatic sometimes, but saying that she was hurting Vegeta by having some good-natured fun had been going a little too far. Bulma wanted nothing more than to apologize to her now. She wondered why the idea hadn't come to her before. The only thing she could think about after being so rude to Vegeta like she had was for her to make up for it and say she was sorry. But with Chichi… All she could do now was reprimand herself and prepare to come up with an adequate apology that could also make up for the time she spent not talking with her friend.

The walk to art class seemed like it went on for miles, but when she finally reached the classroom, she silently wished it had been just a little longer. She glanced around. Goku was playing with a piece of wood in the back of the room and only Chichi and a few other unfamiliar groups of girls were in the room. It was the perfect opportunity to say what needed to be said.

She walked up to her raven-haired friend and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said, not waiting for Chichi to even turn around. She was never any good at apologies anyway. So an old-fashioned "sorry" was the best she could have ever come up with. "I know you're upset and I shouldn't have said the things I said. I didn't mean that I know Vegeta better than you or anything like that. I was just upset about what was going on in my day and I thoughtlessly took it out on you. All I really—"

The next thing she knew, Chichi was holding her in a tight embrace. Bulma had nothing left to say, and even if she did, she wouldn't have been able to remember any of it anyway.

"Why did it take you so long?" Chichi replied, and Bulma noticed that her friend seemed almost relieved to finally be able to speak with her again. "And it was my fault too, you know," she said. Chichi leaned closer to whisper the next part in Bulma's ear. "I shouldn't have mentioned anything about you and Vegeta… you know, making love…? …And I'm sorry I even brought it up again," she added, pulling back and rubbing the back of her head with a hand as she nervously laughed. Bulma noticed that it was the same thing Goku did when he was embarrassed. She wondered who had started it and who had taken after the other.

"Finally!" a familiar low voice called. Bulma turned to find Vegeta throwing his hands up as he walked over to Goku and dropped his whopping load of two single-subject notebooks onto the craft table, blowing wood dust out at them. Chichi coughed and Bulma brushed her hand back and forth in front of her face as she shut her eyes. "Now I don't have to deal with both of your stupid girlish drama all fucking day long!"

"Ve _geta_ ," Goku said, waggling a finger at his bad language. He turned back to Chichi and motioned to Bulma. "So are you going to tell her now?" he asked. "We wouldn't want to have to leave without her after you two just made up. That would just lead to even more problems." He paused. "And then Vegeta would be even _more_ unenthusiastic about it, if that's even possible."

"Oh, yeah. I completely forgot. Imagine what would have happened if you hadn't reminded me just now? Bulma would have been left behind and Vegeta wouldn't have been happy in the least. What would we do if he came along and you didn't? I know what I'd do. I would just roll over and die."

"I'm with you there," Goku said, laughing. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and growled.

"Well then I guess everything is fine now that you remembered to bring along your pet's _restraint_ ," he snarled, and Chichi laughed.

Bulma tilted her head. "What are you guys talking about?" she asked curiously.

"Well, you're the restraint, if that's what you mean," Goku said, laughing again. Vegeta started walking away from them, his head held high.

"And we're talking about our new hotel times down the shore," Chichi said and then elaborated, "The hotel called and said that they made a mistake in the times and they'll give us one night for free if we get there tonight. But the mistake that they made means that we'll have to be back around Saturday evening, which isn't all that great. At least we'll have time to wind down before school starts up again."

"Yeah," Goku added, tsk-ing the people who made the time mistake at the hotel. "The part about leaving without you is that Chichi might not have told you that we're leaving tonight instead of tomorrow if you hadn't said something like you did. And then Vegeta would be grumpy the entire time and all he'd do would be being a huge pain in our rear ends. Hehe."

"Yeah, yeah," Vegeta grumbled, walking back over to them to take his seat as the teacher took attendance for the class.

"But we get to miss two days of school instead of one, which is nice."

"I'm starting to feel like I shouldn't miss any more days of school," Bulma replied sheepishly. Goku waved a hand in the air as if to swat away any concerns she might have had with a swish of his wrist. Bulma thought it essentially worked when it really made her feel a bit better about her skipping.

"And I wouldn't mind taking your car home for you," Goku added, winking. Bulma glared at him as if to say no, but he quickly looked away so he would have an excuse for not getting the message. "It would be better if your car was left in your garage instead of our tiny driveway. Believe it or not, Satan City is known for having a lot of gang activities, which includes spray-painting on buses and cars. And we'll be gone over the weekend. That's the worst time…" He turned to Vegeta. "So maybe you could drive her home and get her stuff and bring it to our place. I'll drive Chichi home and then fly back here to bring her car to her house. Then I'll meet you there and we can all leave together. How does that sound?"

"Nice try, Kakarot," Vegeta said, folding his arms again and rolling his eyes, "But she can take her car home herself and pack her bags while she's there while we take our own vehicles home. And if you're really worried about all the gangs in this town spray-painting her beautiful white piece of junk, then I can go pick her up at her house with the raven's car, because my motorcycle can't carry luggage."

Goku hung his head in defeat and Bulma learned a valuable piece of information. It appeared that Vegeta knew about their secret plans to get them together. She wondered why he didn't seem to care all that much. The hope that he might agree with it made Bulma's heart do a backflip.

"So you'll pick me up then?" she asked her dream boy. He turned to her and smirked as if he had been expecting her to say something like that. She wouldn't have had it any other way.


	22. The Oceanview Motel

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Oceanview Motel**

Bulma grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into an old buckskin backpack that she used to carry around when she travelled with her parents. The familiar smell of it brought back memories as she flipped the covering piece of cloth over the top and tightened the two straps that kept it closed. She knew how to bring a limited number of things with her in one pack from many other experiences. She was used to packing her clothes. But what she wasn't used to was coming back after the weekend was almost over. Whenever she left one of her parent's rental homes, she never got to see the place ever again. She felt a little awkward leaving her things behind and she had to keep reminding herself that she would be back in no time.

She heard a car pulling into the driveway and swung one strap of her backpack over her shoulder, rushing down the steps and shutting all the lights as she went along. She arrived downstairs to find the ebony-haired Saiyan Prince sitting at her kitchen table, waiting patiently for her… or impatiently. She wouldn't have known anyway. His expression was always the same.

"It's about time," he said snottily and Bulma placed her free hand on her hip.

"What are you talking about? You just got here. I heard you pull into the driveway not thirty seconds ago," she said scornfully.

"You're still slow. You should have been ready as soon as I got here."

"Well I'm sorry I can't be as fast as an _alien_ , thank you very much. And I _am_ ready. I'm ready right now and you just got here, so what do you have left to complain about? _Nothing_. So let's go." Bulma readjusted the strap on her right shoulder, jumping a little to get her hair unsnagged from the Velcro underside as she headed for the door, turning her back on her dream boy. She reached for the doorknob and entered the garage.

She heard Vegeta chuckling after her and sighed. Did he do everything just to annoy her? She sometimes wondered what could possibly be going on in that head of his, even though she knew it was impossible to even try to begin to comprehend the things he did.

Grabbing her brown sneakers and sitting down on the steps to put them on, she could feel Vegeta standing not an inch from her back. And when he nudged her with his knee she grumbled.

"What do you want?" she exasperatingly asked, looking upside-down at him as she flipped her head back. His arms were folded, but his expression was the same as usual.

"You're not ready, woman," he said simply, loosening his crossed arms and making a show of impatiently waiting for her to move out of his way by loudly tapping his foot. Bulma tied the last knot and stood, adjusting the strap again. She huffed and moved forward.

"Why do you always have to say something stupid like that?" she asked.

"Like what?" he asked, mock-innocently.

She frowned. "Never mind. Let's go."

Bulma was wearing the same clothes she had on for the school day, and now she was beginning to think that she should have changed into something other than jeans and a stained t-shirt. She had reapplied her deodorant and had run a brush through her tangled tresses, but that had been the extent of her self-grooming. Her brown sneakers smelled like cut grass, so it wasn't like she was going to nauseate everyone because she didn't change. And she felt like maybe she should have brought a wider variety of clothes for the short vacation. All she had in her backpack were more t-shirts, one tank top, another pair of blue jeans, a pair of sport shorts and underwear. And other than her brown sneakers, she had no other shoes. She didn't even have any jewelry. Chichi was going to have a thing or two to say about that, Bulma was sure. She scolded herself for not remembering to pack her camera as well, but it didn't last long as she climbed into the dark green van Vegeta had come with.

"What did you think I was bringing? My entire house?" she asked, getting into the passenger's seat and looking over at him as she gently closed her door. "You locked my door, right?" she added, looking back at her house as he peeled out of her driveway.

"I don't think anyone is getting inside while you're gone," he replied, which Bulma took as a yes.

"Are we taking this giant thing down to the shore with us?" she asked, letting a bit of emotion through her tone to reveal that she wouldn't enjoy being seen with the green monster van. And more importantly, she would enjoy a long ride of holding onto Vegeta on his motorcycle.

"I think Kakarot and his raven are taking the car. They didn't want me to drive it over here because they're worried about me _ruining_ it." His sarcasm overflowed and Bulma couldn't help but laugh.

"What? You don't think you can crash a car?"

"Sure I could," he replied, "If I wanted to, but I don't see why I would ever want to do something else to make the raven pissed off. She has a horrible personality as it is. Crashing her car would be like sticking a needle in my eye on purpose."

"I meant that you could do it by _accident_ ," Bulma clarified.

Vegeta didn't respond right away, and Bulma felt like she had said something wrong. But as soon as she turned to the window, Vegeta chuckled and whispered, "Impossible."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

The drive down to the shore was about four hours long. Bulma entertained herself by looking out the window as Goku drove and Chichi sat in the passenger's seat. She felt a bit uncomfortable in the rightmost back seat as they locked their hands together in front of her.

Vegeta had been long-gone. He had left before the three of them even got in Chichi's car. He got on his motorcycle, saying that he'd get the hotel rooms set up for them for when they arrived tonight. Bulma didn't doubt that he disobeyed the speed limit for the entire four hours, which was probably more like three hours for him.

Goku and Chichi had made a point to try and get Vegeta to offer Bulma a ride, but it never worked. The part that bothered her was that it was so obvious what they were doing that Vegeta must have known anyway, and he still didn't even offer. She had thought about asking to ride with him, but she didn't want to look like a desperate little girl. Besides, she hadn't minded spending some quality time with Chichi and Goku.

Chichi had informed her that she should mentally prepare herself to do a lot of clothing shopping on the boardwalk. Goku had groaned at that, but after Chichi said he can go play arcade games with Vegeta while she and Bulma did their thing, he had kept quiet about the clothes shopping portion of the trip for the remainder of the car ride.

Now, it was almost eight-thirty and Goku pulled the car into a U-turn parking lot. A large sign with big bold letters, "Oceanview Motel" stood out like a sore thumb. The area around them was very much like a city. Bright lights flashed and cars loudly drove by blasting music and flashing their lights. The roads followed a series of blocks that continued on and on to what seemed like no end. And their hotel seemed to be smacked into the middle of it all.

When they were illegally parked in a no-parking zone, Bulma stepped out of the car and grabbed her buckskin backpack. Luckily, Chichi hadn't been able to get her grubby little hands on it yet to see the fashion train-wreck that was inside. 'And hopefully she never will,' Bulma thought.

Goku and Chichi stepped forward and Chichi led the way to the front doors of the hotel.

"Welcome to The Oceanview Motel," a very fruity-sounding man said, waving them over to the front counter. A picture on the wall behind the marble counter showed that the man was the assistant manager of the hotel. "Are you three renting a room now or do you have reservations?" he asked.

"Reservations," Chichi replied. "We paid already and I think one member of our party has already arrived. He might be in one of the two rooms right now actually," she said. "If he didn't leave us behind again, that is," she added under her breath to Bulma and Goku. Bulma giggled to be polite, but sincerely hoped that Vegeta didn't do such a thing.

"Names, please?" the assistant manager asked, grabbing a handy clipboard off of a nearby shelf.

"I think we put the rooms under Ouji, right Goku, sweetie?" she asked, turning to her boyfriend. Goku nodded and Chichi turned back to the man behind the marble counter, nodding to say that Ouji was the correct name.

The man scrolled a bony finger down the papers on the clipboard until he tapped something lightly. "Here you are. Your rooms are numbers 109 and 110. The 100 part only means the first floor. The rooms are actually right around this corner here." He pointed around the back of the motel, motioning that they had to leave the front office first to get there. "And the other member of your party arrived already and has the key to one of the rooms. I believe he is still here. He arrived not too long ago and I don't recall seeing him leaving since then."

"Thank you," Chichi said with a smile, taking the key that the man was handing to her. Bulma could tell that her smile was a bit fake.

"I'll go park the car around the back. Grab your bags now, Chichi. I'll get mine and be over there after I make sure we didn't get a ticket already," he said jokingly. "Bulma, you already have yours, so you can just go to the rooms. I don't know which one Vegeta picked, but you're staying with him and Chichi and I get the other room." He smiled.

"I could've guessed," Bulma said mock-contemptuously, rolling her eyes and adjusting the Velcro strap on her right shoulder as she turned and walked away. Chichi snickered behind her. "I heard that!" Bulma said, not helping but to laugh. She heard Chichi laugh in return as she stepped around the corner. She looked at the gold, metal numbers on the doors. The first one was 118, and Bulma paused, thinking she might have gone the wrong way. But when she took another step forward, she noticed that the metal numbers were counting backwards.

She got to 111 and glanced inside the large glass window that all the rooms shared. A bleached-blonde woman was washing dishes in the tiny kitchen and a large, hairy, shirtless and balding man sat in a comfy-looking chair with a beer in one hand and a remote in the other. All the lights in his room were off, making the blue and green flashes from the television easy to see as they moved and flickered over his face. When he caught her staring, Bulma quickly looked away and mouthed "sorry" when she knew she was out of sight. It just made her feel better, even if the man didn't see or hear her do it.

Room 110 was unoccupied and all the lights were off, so Bulma leaned over to peek at room number 109. When she saw that the television was on, she smiled to herself and made for the door.

Creaking it open slowly, she stepped inside and gently closed it without making a peep. She placed her buckskin pack on the single couch and looked around. The part of the hotel room that could be seen from the large glass window was the television room and half of the kitchen. The part of it that could be seen was a hallway-like area on the left that extended the miniscule kitchen and attached to a bathroom with a shower at the far end, and a connected bedroom on the left.

Bulma instinctively cupped her hands over her mouth to keep silent and held her breath when she saw the even rise and fall of Vegeta's body as he lay on his side, his back to the doorway. The tiny window for the bedroom had the shade pulled over it. The sun was mostly gone, so opening the shades wouldn't have let any extra light into the already dark room anyway.

As she tiptoed over to the bed her eyes popped at the realization that there was only one, and there were two of _them_. Hearing a distant door shut, Bulma cursed out Chichi in her head. Out of everything she had been expecting, _one_ bed was definitely not one of them.

Vegeta flipped over slowly, his eyes open. He looked over at Bulma, who had an embarrassed smile on her face.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," she said, "And the other sound wasn't me. It was Chichi shutting the door to her hotel room."

"Why are you apologizing? You can't help it."

"Excuse me?" Bulma said, placing her hands on her hips. She might have made a little bit of noise before she realized that he was asleep, but she could _help it_. What did _he_ know anyway?

"Don't be offended, woman," he replied in a bored tone. "You really can't help it. You have no control over what your body does." He shrugged. Bulma felt her face warm up a little bit, but she kept her arms on her hips and her posture straight. She hadn't even felt like that… until now. "I'm a Saiyan. My senses aren't as horribly weak as yours. And I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I am I bit more in tune to what _your_ body does than everyone else's. I guess you could say that I really don't care about what anyone else feels."

Bulma felt a small smile creep up to her lips, but she repressed it before it could truly show through. Just the simple fact that he noticed her would have been good enough for her consciousness, but having him say it aloud and admit that he didn't care about what anyone else felt made her heart drop into her stomach with glee.

"Like that," Vegeta said simply. Bulma frowned at his expression and where his eyes were wandering to on her body. "And that," he added. Bulma rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. "And that," he repeated with a sly smirk.

"What's so funny?" Bulma asked forcefully looking down at him.

"Emotions, especially for a _human_ ," he began and Bulma could almost feel herself needing a chair to sit down on. She went to the bed and sat down a few feet away from her dream boy as a substitute. Vegeta continued, "come with both overt and covert bodily changes. Are you following?" Bulma nodded, feeling like a young school girl listening to her kindergarten teacher telling the class a story. "Examples that I feel from you…" he said, thinking for a small moment, "may include the electrical activities of your skin. This can either be what you're feeling or simply if you're too hot or too cold. Respiratory activities, blood pressure, sweat gland functioning, and reactions of endocrine glands can deal with many things. Changes in the chemical activities of your blood, skin temperature, pupil response, pilomotor response, gastro-intestinal activities, muscle tension and eye blinking are a few of many things that I can sense."

Bulma blinked a few times, as if her eyelids were in the way of the information getting to her brain. It didn't all get there anyway, though.

"So," he continued, "You waking me up wasn't intentional. You can't control the involuntary functioning of your body."

"Then what did I do?" Bulma asked haughtily, not completely a believer of the so-called abilities of a Saiyan. Vegeta smirked and Bulma instantly knew she was going to end up being in the wrong this time.

"The temperature and electrical activities of your skin increase when you enter dark rooms. Your pupils responded when the light dimmed in here, in comparison to the sunset's brighter light from outside. And when you entered this room, your respiratory functioning ceased for a moment, which was the main cause of my disturbed sleep. I can't have you dying on my vacation, now can I?" He smirked, sitting up and gently folding his arms. Bulma remembered shoving her hands over her mouth and holding her breath for a split second when she entered the bedroom. Vegeta had flipped over just after that.

But the fact that he woke up because she had stopped breathing was interesting news to hear. Did he wake up on purpose, she wondered. Or had that been involuntary? A natural reaction from his body? When had such a thing started and why hadn't he mentioned it beforehand?

Vegeta pointed to the doorway and Bulma tilted her head.

"What is it?" she asked.

" _Kakarot_ ," he said with a frown, slumping back down onto the bed with a snort of annoyance. And then a soft rapping came from the door. Bulma stood and made her way to the entrance.

When she opened the door, she was none surprised to see Goku standing there with a big, goofy smile on his face. Chichi was behind him.

"We thought it would be more fun if we went out to the boardwalk tonight. What do you say, Bulma? You up for a couple crane games and lots of pizza? I think they even have an amusement park that's open all night long. The roller coasters are made with colorful lights built-in, so they were made for nighttime rides. Pretty cool, huh?"

Bulma smiled, "I would love to go. It's not even nine o'clock yet and I haven't had dinner. A trip to the boardwalk sounds like a great idea. And besides, that is kind of why we're here isn't it?" she asked, turning to Chichi in mention of their idea to shop for new clothes.

"I know," Chichi replied, "I just wanted to know if you were tired or not. I mean, if you felt like going to bed early today, we could stay out later tomorrow. But if we go tonight, then we can get more time in to see everything and do everything."

Bulma nodded her agreement as Goku peered past her, looking inside.

"Hey, where's Vegeta?" he asked.

"Sleeping!" a muffled voice said, coming from the back room.

"Oh, come on, Vegeta!" Chichi yelled with a smile, her hair dancing with the slight breeze, "Don't be a couch potato! Why do you think we invited _Bulma_ along with us? Let's go already!" Goku laughed and another noise came from the bedroom. It sounded like defeat, and as Vegeta came huffing around the corner to them, his glare on Chichi, Bulma giggled.

"Let's go, Vegeta. Grab your key and let's get outta here," Goku said exuberantly. His enthusiasm seemed to make Vegeta even _grumpier_.

As they locked their hotel rooms and passed room 111, it was Bulma's turn to catch the large, hairy man staring at _her_. His intense glare and empty bottle of vodka made her a little nervous, but when she looked over at Vegeta to see his reaction, he didn't even seem to have been paying any attention to anything but how miserable he felt, being dragged along. His arms were still tightly folded over his thick-muscled chest and his eyes were glaring daggers at the air directly in front of him. Bulma concluded that he wasn't always paying _that_ much attention to her.

Vegeta left them to walk to his motorcycle. Chichi nudged Bulma in the shoulder and nodded her head in Vegeta's direction.

"Remember our deal, sweetheart?" she asked, and Bulma could have sworn that she heard a bit of an evil tone in Chichi's question. "If something special happens, then I win."

"Something special?" Bulma asked, looking for some kind of clarification.

"You _know_ what I mean, Bulma Briefs. If something worthwhile happens between you and Vegeta because of my _masterful_ plan here, then Goku and I are allowed to butt in sometimes."

"And if _I_ win, then you get to butt out, _all_ the time."

"Yeah, yeah. But we don't have to worry about that because it's not going to happen."

"Says you," Bulma said.

"Oh, just get over there!" Chichi smiled, shoving her towards where Vegeta's motorcycle was parked and where Vegeta was walking towards it.

Bulma took a step forward and paused. He was already that far away. What would he think if she just ran up to him to ride on his motorcycle with him? She didn't want to put him in an even worse mood than he already was, and what if something went wrong? What would happen if he didn't want her to—

"Come on already, woman!" Vegeta called, not even pausing or turning around, "I'm not _deaf_ , you know!" Bulma skeptically turned to Chichi, who dramatically mouthed the word " _go_ " to her and gave her another rough shove in Vegeta's direction.

Bulma rolled her eyes and started jogging forward, listening to Goku start the car's engine and the doors slam shut. She guessed that they probably deduced that they would need a head start to arrive at the boardwalk around the same time as her and Vegeta.

Her black helmet was thrown at her face when she got closer and she caught it, learning to expect it to be aimed at her head by now.

"Thanks," she breathed, quickly putting the helmet on and swinging her right leg over the side and happily gripping onto Vegeta waist. As soon as she was on, they were off, peeling out of the parking lot, kicking up rocks and dust as the back tire sped up without going anywhere for the first couple seconds. Bulma held on tighter when he picked up speed, not stopping at the end of the lot to check if any other vehicles were coming down the road. Her faith in his abilities was great, and she believed that he was reliable when it came to speed and strength and even intelligence. But his driving quality still scared her. No matter how skilled he was and how many hits from a tractor-trailer he could withstand, she could still be killed by a mere accident. She desperately hoped that he was keeping that in mind as they passed Goku and Chichi on the right, over the white line, continuing to pick up speed.


	23. A Night to Remember part 1

**Chapter Twenty-Two: A Night to Remember pt. 1**

The boardwalk was crowded, and by the time they arrived, the sun was already gone and the only lights were that of the flashing signs on each of the shops, restaurants and arcades. It lit up the wooden boards of the strip in all the colors of the rainbow. The bright lights of the Ferris wheel and roller coasters in the distance made the sight even more beautiful.

Bulma couldn't help but notice how the lights danced over Vegeta's features in the commotion of the nighttime. His expression was clearly one of annoyance and Bulma could picture what he was thinking about being dragged along once again. But she stayed close to him whenever a man passed by who didn't look all that sober.

Surprisingly, there weren't that many of them. Most of the people who put her on edge were just the boys that looked at her in ways she didn't appreciate. Bulma loved the boardwalk and the beach ever since she was a little girl, but she knew that not everyone there was just enjoying the entertainment.

But Vegeta always made her feel safe. It was as if she could sense his energy when she stood next to him, and she could literally feel that he was stronger than anyone else for miles. Other than Goku, of course, but he had stayed behind a bit with Chichi to grab a pizza or two. Vegeta said he'd been done in five minutes with only one or two pizzas, so Bulma guessed that he had gotten preoccupied with an arcade or something, and Chichi had gone along with him. They had separated almost a half an hour ago.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Bulma asked, feeling her stomach rumble. The sudden thought of food made her mouth water and she had to swallow it back down her throat before it overflowed.

"Do you?" Vegeta replied, looking around at the people who passed by.

By the way he glared at a lot of the young and older men that passed by, Bulma had felt special all night. It was as if he was protective of her, and she thoroughly delighted in it. It was the closest thing to affection that he had ever shown to her, and she would be damned if she didn't enjoy every second of it.

"I just wanted to know if you're hungry. Because I'll feel bad if you're not and you stop and wait for me to eat something. I'm not that hungry anyway though. It doesn't matter all that much. I can wait."

"You know, I think I am hungry," he said suddenly, taking her by the wrist and leading her horizontally through the rush of an oncoming crowd. Vegeta kept his shoulder down and plowed through the younger men who thought they were better than him as he glared daggers at a few others who looked at Bulma, but didn't see her face.

He pulled her out of the crowd and Bulma looked up to find that he had led her to a pizzeria. It wasn't that big of a surprise. Pizzerias were everywhere on the boardwalk and the only other places Bulma had seen were diners. And she wasn't about to walk into a fancy diner with Vegeta.

He ordered at the messy marble-top counter, still holding Bulma's wrist tightly in his hand, as if she was about to be captured and taken away from him. She didn't know what was up with him today, but she liked his new attitude. Protectiveness was something she found very attractive in Vegeta. It made it hard for her to keep her hands off of him. It made him magnetic… and she was a lost copper wire.

A slice of pepperoni pizza on a white paper plate was shoved towards her and she took it before it came in contact with her stainable clothes. She looked up at him as he took his plate and almost fainted when she saw the single slice entering his mouth. She couldn't believe that he ordered only one slice. He was a Saiyan. The time he spent at her house had provided her with the horrible news that he ate like a freaking black hole. It was shocking to find him with only one piece, but she didn't say anything, guessing that he only ordered because she had given away her weakness of hunger.

She finished her single slice and threw the plate away. When she wiped the edge of her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at Vegeta, she found him staring intently at her. His slice was long gone and his eyes were devastatingly upon her with all their mighty force.

"Is something wrong?" she managed to ask, and he looked away, as if she had broken his concentration.

"No." The answer was simple and straightforward, but Bulma could tell that he was hiding something from her.

"You're certainly not very talkative tonight," she said, making sure her voice was gentle. The last thing she wanted to do was put him in a horrible mood so that she ended up having a horrible time as well.

As if to save her night, Goku and Chichi came running up to them, panting and pointing behind them with big smiles and laughter on their faces.

"Bulma, we've got to go try something out," Chichi yelped happily between breaths. "Come on. We've got to go now before the line gets any longer." Bulma's other wrist was grabbed and as soon as Chichi started pulling her away, Vegeta let go and looked the other way, avoiding any eye contact. Something was definitely up with him, Bulma deduced. She hoped that maybe Goku could do something to make him not so uptight by the time she and Chichi got back.

"We already looked at the clothes, Chichi," Bulma whined, passing by stores and dreadfully glancing at the skimpy shirts and shorts that Bulma would have labeled as underwear if the sign above them didn't say otherwise.

"Oh, it's not clothes. It's a roller coaster! And it looks like the biggest thing I have ever seen down here. I think it's new, but I know I've never been on it before. Maybe it was closed down or something. I really don't know, and I really don't care. I just want to feel that adrenaline pumping through my veins, baby! Oh, yeah!" Chichi threw a fist into the air and Bulma laughed. She'd never seen her raven haired friend like this before. Everyone was acting differently here.

Bulma was led down the wooden stairs onto the beach below and pulled to the entrance through the fence that surrounded the amusement park part of the boardwalk. Bulma got dizzy looking straight up at the massive Ferris wheel and had to lean Chichi's way to keep her balance as they walked, single file, through the thick crowds and the endless lines.

"Where is this roller coaster?" Bulma asked, looking up and around. There were many of them. She didn't know which one was the one Chichi was talking about. They all looked the same to her from her ant's-eye view.

"It's right up _there_ ," Chichi replied excitedly, pointing with her entire hand. As they neared it, Bulma looked up. It was bigger than the other roller coasters. That was for sure, but it was the same loops and spirals and fast speeds as the other ones. Bulma sighed and smiled as Chichi squealed about being the first in line. A few minutes went by as the line behind them grew and Bulma wondered what had been wrong with Vegeta before. He seemed on-edge, as if he was worried about something. She presumed that it could always be her, what with all the guys looking at her in ways that he obviously didn't like. But he was a Saiyan. He had nothing to worry about if it involved her safety. He hadn't left her side for the entire night. It was almost time to go home and he was still acting unusual. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was almost as if he was rebelling against something inside of him. What it was though, she couldn't imagine.

A big man with a thick, brown beard opened the metal gate and Chichi dragged Bulma inside, picking the first two seats in the front for them to sit. Bulma gulped and reluctantly followed as more people filed through and took their seats behind the two of them.

She sat in the plastic chair and watched Chichi get all fired up as she bounced up and down. She reached for her safety belt and pulled it over her chest, strapping herself inside with relative ease. Chichi did the same as they waited for the bearded man to come to their seat and check to make sure that everyone's straps were fastened correctly.

When he reached over Bulma to check Chichi's belts and straps, she caught a whiff of something that made her very nervous. She thought it smelled like alcohol. She looked at him more closely as he tightened her belt next. His eyes were droopy and his hands were shaky. The man didn't look to be sober.

When he stood up straight and wobbled over to the controls, Bulma turned to Chichi. "I don't think this is such a good idea, Chichi," she said anxiously. "That guy doesn't look like he's all there. It's not safe for him to be controlling this ride if he's not sober, don't you think so?"

"What do you mean? He was _drunk_?" Chichi asked with disbelief.

"I don't know, but I thought I could smell it on his breath, and he wobbled when he walked over to the control booth. I don't like this anymore. I'm getting off now."

But as soon as she began to call out, the bearded man shut the glass door to the control booth, cutting off any transfer of sound, and flipped the button the started the roller coaster. It lunged forward a few times before moving along slowly and steadily up the first incline.

"It's going to be fine," Chichi said. "The controls are only stop and go, right? And he's probably been doing this all night anyway. Don't worry yourself so much. It's hard to mess up with only a start and stop button, even for a guy that isn't all there. It's common sense, Bulma." Chichi stopped talking as they neared the crest of the first tall drop-off. The decline was sharp, and Bulma could feel her body bracing for what she knew was about to come next.

As they plummeted towards the ground, Bulma's heart got caught in her throat as she heard the people behind her screaming out in excitement and exhilaration. Even she let out a delightful cry as the coaster made a right turn and swept down another steep decline. She let out a happy yelp as Chichi gripped her arm in suspense. They began climbing another incline, taller than the previous one. As they neared the climax, Bulma could see the loops to come and checked to make sure that her safety belt was fastened securely. She tugged on it once in preparation, but something snapped. The metal of the belt came loose from the plastic as a piece of it tumbled towards the ground far below.

Her eyes widened as she looked straight ahead. The ride was still moving and the loops were getting nearer and nearer, as if in slow motion. She took one second to comprehend what had happened to her strap. The plastic had snapped. The piece that held it in was no longer attached. It was currently plummeting to the ground, as she could picture herself doing very soon.

" _Chichi_!" she screamed. " _Help_! My seatbelt isn't working!" She frantically looked down and saw the bearded man. He was outside the control booth. " _Stop the ride_!" she shrieked down to him, but he didn't even look up at her. " _Please_! Turn off the ride! My safety belt! It broke! _Please_! Stop the ride now! _Somebody_! _Help me_!"

People from down below were now looking up at her in shock and fright. One man sprinted over to the bearded man, but he was clearly not sober. He put his hands to his mouth and almost fell over as the other man yelled at him to stop the ride because someone wasn't safe. The bearded man wasn't listening. Others shouted and pointed and screamed to call the police, but it was too late.

Bulma screamed and squeezed her eyes tight as the first loop violently pushed her out of her seat. She felt her neck muscles twist the wrong way and caught sight of Chichi's traumatized and devastated expression as they parted, the distance between them increasing with every second. She felt her whole body go numb as she listened to herself scream. She heard the people below screaming with her and the contrast of the people left on the roller coaster screaming in excitement and happiness. Bulma was far from that. Her screams could have brought the dead back to life.

But as quickly as it had started, it was over.

The wind no longer whipped her hair around her face. Now it caressed her and moved her aquamarine locks like silent waves. Her screams died out and it was as if everyone else's had died out as well. She opened her eyes and wondered if she was dead. She felt calm and there was no noise whatsoever.

She paused, hearing some shouting and calling out in the background, but it was minimal. She felt like she was floating on a cloud, the wind beneath her and the wind through her hair. She felt calm, relieved that it had been painless.

Then she heard someone calling her. The voice sounded familiar, but distant. It sounded urgent, worried. It sounded desperate. She suddenly felt very alone. Something was wrong. She wanted to see a white light to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but darkness was all that she could see. There was nothing but darkness and shadows all around her. It enveloped her. It shrouded her. It cloaked her. It consumed her, body and soul.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma woke up and stared at the ceiling. She pictured the movies she'd watched where people woke up and didn't remember anything and compared that to herself. The only thought in her mind as she opened her eyes was falling. She remembered it clearly. It was vivid in her mind. She could still feel the panic in her heart and she could see the fear in Chichi's eyes as if it were happening all over again. She could hear the crowds screaming for someone to do something. And then she remembered Vegeta. She hadn't been thinking clearly, so her mind hadn't registered everything before. But now she knew. Now she knew everything.

A deep inhale told her that he was there. She could smell his aroma: a woodsy musk mixed with his own personal scent. It was like heaven, if such a perfect world could truly exist. She rolled her head to the side and looked up at him, sitting up next to her, his arms crossed, his legs crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. He stared at the white wall across the room as if he was reading something important on it. Bulma glanced at it for a moment to make sure that there really was nothing on it before turning back to look at her dream boy's foggy eyes.

"Hey," she whispered with a smile, and he ever-so-slightly jumped. Bulma lifted a fine eyebrow. After all his talk and bragging about being aware of everything she or her body did, she could startle him like that. Maybe he had been exaggerating a bit. Or maybe not…

The expression on his face instantly became readable as he turned to her, quickly uncrossing his arms. Bulma pushed herself up on her elbows and her face flushed profusely, uncontrollably. The only source of light was a dim lamp that really needed a light bulb change. The way it hit Vegeta's face made his features stand out all the more to her.

It was dark outside the window. The shades were closed. She wondered how long she had been out.

"What happened?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with her forearm. She felt tired, but like she had just woken up after a long nap as well. She yawned as she awaited her answer.

"I brought you back here. Kakarot and his raven are asleep in their room. You've been out for over an hour. Unfortunately, Kakarot is unhappy with the publicity that I gained for us. Apparently, one little boy had his camera running…"

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked, tilting her head when he didn't continue. He paused for a moment after she asked her question, probably debating how to answer it.

"Why do you insist on having to know everything?" he asked, and Bulma was taken aback by his lack of a snappy tone and sarcastic attitude. He didn't seem normal. And he certainly didn't feel like answering her question. But the thought of Vegeta rescuing her, midair, and the news that some kid had his camera running made Bulma question whether or not she actually had to hear the answer to believe it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, instinctively placing a hand on his leg. She regretted it when he jumped again. Her curiosity spiked and she urgently wanted to know what was going on in his head. But he was always so unreadable to her. She could never figure him out.

"I thought it didn't matter…" he said softly. "I thought I wouldn't mind if…"

"What are you talking about?" Bulma asked, sitting up in the bed, almost reaching his height.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to do it myself, but it appears that I can't let anything else do it either. I wasn't expecting that." He let out a throaty laugh. It was clearly forced and it reflected anything but humor.

"I don't understand, Vegeta. What are you saying?"

"Nothing…" he said simply, "I believed that if I waited, something about all this would change. I waited even though I knew for _sure_ that nothing would change. Now… nothing _can_ change."

"Vegeta, what in the world are you talking about. I don't underst—"

In the next second, Vegeta was standing, his back to the far wall, his eyes directly on her with their mighty force. He looked down at her as if she was expensive, but he had no money. The desire in his eyes was unmistakable. Bulma flushed even more.

"I can't do this anymore," he said, his usual deep tone revived. "Can't you see it's killing me?" His volume returned as well. The darkness made Bulma feel like he shouldn't be so loud. He snarled and Bulma started, falling back instinctively. "If I can't leave this fucking place, then what am I here for?! _Tell_ _me_ , _woman_!"

Bulma opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it and awaited the inevitable answer to her previous question. Something was definitely wrong, and now she was going to find out why.

Vegeta stepped forward and put his hands on the bed to either side of her. Bulma couldn't unlock their eyes from each other. She couldn't pull away from him. She was drawn to him, but now he was beginning to frighten her as he leaned forward. Bulma pulled back, but as he continued to lean, eventually she was flat on her back, her legs at an awkward angle towards the end of the bed.

"Why am I trapped here?" he asked, his hot breath on her face. He smelled delightful. "Why can't I leave? Is this putrid planet my _prison_? Am I being _punished_? What have I done wrong?"

"You've done nothing wrong."

Bulma's voice came out lighter than a whisper, but it seemed to anger the Saiyan Prince all the more. But Bulma could tell that his anger wasn't for her. He was only venting, but why?

"I clearly have, woman," he said, laughing sardonically, as if something about what she had said was ironic in some way. "If I can't leave, then I am being held against my will. Are you saying that I _want_ to stay here?" He laughed again, pouring his sweet breath over her face yet again as he leaned in ever closer. Bulma had nowhere to go, but she wouldn't have rather been anywhere else. "I'm here because I want to be? Is _that_ what you want me to believe? _You don't have any idea what's_ _happening to me_!" he bellowed, breaking through an internal shell. "You have no fucking _clue_ what's happening! How dare you interfere with _my_ _life_ , woman! Who do you think you are, anyway?" Another laugh broke free and Bulma shuddered a bit. "A mere Earthling female cannot barge into my territory and think she can just wander around freely without having to face some sort of consequence!"

He lifted his body up off of her. He looked at the palms of his hands and laughed again, this time without the ironic tone to it. Now, it was only a heartless, humorless laugh. Bulma frowned up at him as she, too, sat up to look him in the eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she stated firmly standing up to attempt to stand even with him. It didn't work. "But if this is your way of trying to get me to leave, you're doing a _wonderful_ job." She rolled her eyes.

"Is that what you think I want, woman?" he asked, a disbelieving smirk on his face. Bulma noticed that he looked almost unnatural. "And even if that was my desire, how would it provide me with any aid? You think that walking away will make everything all better? The only thing that can fix this is for you to leave, _permanently_! I thought an Earthling of your astute _intelligence_ could have figured that _out_ by now!"

Bulma had to scrunch her face to keep from letting her tears reveal themselves.

"Of _course_ I know that," she quietly squeaked, looking at the hard carpet below her feet, her voice cracking as she cursed herself for her un-Saiyan-like weaknesses. "I've known that ever since Goku told me who you guys really were."

Vegeta paused, unable to answer for a minute, so Bulma decided to say something else, lifting her eyes to meet with his again.

"I may not understand everything, but I know the facts," she said, "And I know that you want to go home, but I'm in the way. And I know that it would be easier for you if I wasn't here. It would be better for you if you'd never met me and you wish that you could go back and just avoid me from the start. Trust me, Vegeta. I understand that part, and I'm sorry for what I've made you go through. But you're not making things any better by telling me to drop dead, you know. If there's something I can do to make it better, please tell me, because… well, I can't do this anymore, either. Being _this_ to you… _Doing_ this to you. I just… can't."

Vegeta stepped forward quickly and Bulma instinctively took a step back, forgetting about the bed behind her. The crease behind her knee hit the metal below the mattress, but before she caved into her own weight, Vegeta's arms pulled her back to him. And when they were wrapped around her, he was kissing her gently. Bulma's eyes went as wide as they could go without popping out of her head.

His soft lips were warm against hers and his scent was driving her crazy, and she excitedly knew that it was only the beginning.

When she responded by moving herself against his mouth, his kisses became frantic. Bulma knew that anyone else would have told her to push him away, but her mind was ignoring what other people would have thought was _sensible_ for her to do. She didn't care what the word meant at that moment anyway. Not when Vegeta was kissing her for the first time. Not when he was kissing her as if he would go to hell for it, but he didn't care. Not when he was as wild as he was now. Not when he defenses had dropped for the first and maybe last time around her.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense as a defense against her sharp nails. She couldn't help herself. She remembered wanting this since the first time she saw his god-like face, scowling down at her in the hallway on her very first day of school. Now, it was finally happening, but she had been taken by surprise. She didn't know what was right or wrong in the situation because she'd never been in one like it before. So, she just let her body do what it wanted.

She kissed him back with all the desperation from that very first day. It was the desperation of not knowing what he was thinking, or not knowing how he felt about her, and not knowing what she could do to change anything for the better. He was always pushing her away, and now he was finally letting her in, sharing his warmth.

"Oh," Bulma said softly between kisses as he pushed away from her only to move his hands down to her waist. He leaned her back so that her legs buckled against the metal of the bed once more as he slowly lowered her down, lowering himself so that they would stay even. Bulma took his face in her hands as he got down on his knees, sinking lower than her. She had to bend her head down to continue kissing him.

Then he slowly rose up and rolled both of them back onto the bed, his hands still on her waist, moving up and down. It was nerve-racking. Bulma wanted him on her, but he kept their bodies separate as he lifted himself so that their chests never touched. She could feel the feverish heat radiating from him like a wildfire, and she wanted to feel it on her bare skin.

Before she realized it, Bulma was forcefully pushed back so that the blanket bunched up below her shoulder blades and her legs were on the soft sheets instead of hanging off the edge of the bed. Her legs were bent so that her knees were in the air. Vegeta was between them, slowing climbing forward like a powerful predator, ready to pounce and attack his prey. But as his lips reached hers and they locked together once more, his upper body still refused to touch hers.

Bulma couldn't stand it anymore. She removed her hands from his back and grabbed at each side of his hips, gripping him there. His tight spandex training pants bunched up in her small fists as she pulled him down. He grunted as he and all hopes of resistance fell, and their bodies began to meld together everywhere- chests, hips, legs- like the final pieces to a puzzle. His hands moved back down to her waist as he kissed her, making her shudder. She let out a moan of delight when his arms wrapped protectively around her, pulling her ever closer. She took in his heat with enthusiasm, parting her lips as she sighed in pleasure.

His tongue slipped into her mouth between her parted lips and Bulma inhaled sharply with the sensation. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before in all her life. It was exotic in more ways than one. So she ignored her own thoughts and let her body do whatever came as natural.

Their hearts slammed together as one through the thin layers of fabric that divided them. Her arms were pinned above her head and Bulma smirked. She didn't need her hands, she thought, wrapping her legs around his lower waist and locking them together.

He made a grunt, a quick noise of surprise, low in his throat that reminded her that he was still a Saiyan and he was still more powerful than any Earthling on her planet. Instead of having the frightening and intimidating effect that it would have had on anyone else, Bulma found it intriguing. She found it intoxicating. It made her want him all the more. Although the intimidating part was spot-on, she was currently his equal. He was no better than her and she was no better than him. She enjoyed the feeling like she had never experienced joy before.

Vegeta released her arms and used his hands to prod at her clothes. Not wanting to be outdone, she used her free hands to slide her fingers under his tight shirt and explore what she found underneath. The tight, hot skin over his ribs was alcoholic to her. The ridges of his abdomen only further proved how powerful he was. She identified the unexpected ridges as she ran her fingertips to his bare back as scars.

The angle of his hip bones just above the fabric of his training pants' waistband seemed like uncharted territory for her, but she didn't care. She was letting her animal instincts take over, no matter what. She knew the risks and she knew what other people would think of her if they saw her right now. But she didn't care. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't about to deny it to herself.

Her hands slid over the waistband of his spandex pants until she dared to slide her first pointer finger underneath. She didn't know what she was doing, but it seemed to be driving Vegeta crazy as he panted against her mouth, kissing her harder and harder as if it was never enough. As if it could never be equivalent to what his fantasies desired. But she didn't care. Whatever he wanted, fictional or not, she wanted him to try it on her.

What she wasn't counting on was what came next…

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Dear Fans,

I'm sorry to say this, but I will be censoring the next couple chapters, because there is a lot of sexual content in them, as I'm sure you could've guessed from this chapter's ending. I really don't want to, because it just creates more work for me in the end, and also because of this kind of content in a few of my stories, my account was hacked multiple times (I actually received an email the second time saying that this was why people were hacking into my account, as ridiculous as that sounds), so I don't think I want to take that chance again. If you were here and reading this story solely for the purpose of the lemons, then I'm sorry to you guys, but I also hope that some of you will still choose to enjoy my story for what it is, even without the more explicit content. Thank you for your understanding and I will continue to write with all my fans in mind.

Thank you, as always, for your support. 3

Yours Truly,

-LightPhyre


	24. A Night to Remember part 2

**Chapter Twenty-Three: A Night to Remember pt. 2**

Bulma tangled her fingertips through Vegeta's hair as they rolled on the bed together, their lips locked in a passionate and feverish kiss. He was holding her tightly, as if trying to prevent something from taking her away. Bulma twisted her legs until they wrapped around his middle and locked her ankles behind him, pulling him closer to her as he worked his beautiful magic.

She never wanted this moment to end.

But then he was no longer on her. She felt strangely colder than she had ever felt in her entire life and her heart stung something fierce. She sat up and looked across the room at him, panting heavily and staring at her. Once again, his expression was unreadable.

"What's wrong?" she asked him and he shook his head, humorlessly smirking at the carpeting. "What is it?"

"I've just done something that felt so right and yet so wrong," he said simply, his smirk still in place. He looked like a little boy who just broke the rules, and was unusually satisfied that he was going to be punished for his actions. "And now I can't even go back and change this."

"What would you want to change?" Bulma asked, a bit offended by his statement and tone. "I wouldn't change anything for the entire universe."

"The universe is larger than you think, woman," he said, looking back up at her. "There are planets that you have no idea about. There are planets that house species that you couldn't even begin to imagine."

"I know about the Saiyans," she replied playfully, "And I think they're _great_. Plus, I don't have to imagine them because you're right here, in front of me."

"How long do you think that can last?" Vegeta asked, his voice taking on a harsher tone. Bulma frowned, her forehead creasing as her eyebrows drew together.

"What do you mean? That you're going somewhere?" she asked, placing a hand over her heart to signify that she wouldn't enjoy that. "Are you saying that you and I won't…I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

"Then why did you say it?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and began walking over to the bed. Bulma's frown was still in place when he sat down. He leaned back and lay down next to her, staring at the white ceiling with his hands behind his head.

"So, now what?" Bulma asked, a bit confused. "One minute you're about to rip my clothes off and the next you're telling me that you regret it? That hardly seems fair, Vegeta."

"First of all, I was _not_ going to rip your clothes off, woman. And second of all, life isn't fair. So get used to it." He paused and then devilishly smirked at her. "Are you saying that you thought I was going to _mate_ with you?"

Bulma went red, and then frowned again. "You certainly had me fooled."

"I can't believe you didn't say something," he said, his gaze drawing itself back to the white ceiling with relative ease. "You've clearly never mated with anyone before in your entire life, and you were prepared to change that _tonight_? I'm honestly shocked." Although, his blaze tone served to prove otherwise.

"What do you mean, I've _clearly_ never done it before?" she asked heatedly. "Are you _insulting_ me? What? I'm not good enough for you, Mr. Big-Shot? And I'm sure you've done it a thousand times before, huh?"

"Don't exaggerate because you're jealous," he chuckled, "And I would prefer to have you unused anyway. It wouldn't be pleasing to bed a woman who mates with a man every other night. That's disgusting. Even for a Saiyan. Although I must say that you're planet has a nasty habit of doing just that. Some of the females on this planet are just…"

"Like Maron?"

Vegeta chuckled at her ending for his statement. "Yes, like Maron."

A long, silent pause took place for about a minute or two before Bulma decided to break the quiet in the room. "So… You've been with a lot of girls?"

"Yes." He turned to her thoughtfully. "Does that bother you? On Planet Vegeta, _my_ planet, a female Saiyan would _want_ to be with a male that has been with more than a few females because it represents his abilities. If a female has been with multiple men, it only proves that she was incapable of keeping her mate interested. Therefore, males would only use a female like that for a one-night release. She wouldn't be a proper mother if she couldn't even keep her own male away from other females. And if a male has only been with one female, it proves that he… _isn't_ that much of a man."

"Why did you mention mothers?" Bulma asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it anyway.

"What else are mates for, woman? The male finds the most capable female he can and attempts to produce offspring with his lovely catch. The only difference between our two species is that there is the illusion on this planet that all males and females are equal. On my planet, we understand the concept of 'survival of the fittest'. The females who aren't proper for producing offspring aren't mated with, so only the strongest and most capable Saiyans reproduce with one another. It constantly makes our species better while yours stays in the dump with the idea that everyone is the same, and better is only a false hope. And it clearly _is_ for Earthlings."

"I don't appreciate you bashing on my planet, Vegeta."

"But nonetheless, I know you're smart enough to see that I'm right."

Bulma rolled her eyes in annoyance. "So, what would you describe as a _capable_ female?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows and smirking down at him as she inched closer to him. She looked into his onyx eyes, as deep as the sea. He smirked in return.

"Shapely, for starters," he said, running his eyes up and down her body. Bulma flushed pink, feeling as if his eyes were penetrating her clothes, and looked away for a moment. "Now, are you asking my _personal_ opinion or just what the ideal female is for Saiyans in general?"

"Don't be silly. What makes you think I'd care about what anyone _else_ wants? I want to know what _you_ think."

His smirk got even wider as he continued. "And I guess I'm not allowed to just say _you_ in this little game you've created. Is that correct?"

"Of course," she smiled.

"Well, the shapely idea was for my general population, but I've had many different species of women where Earthling female-like curves aren't preferred. It doesn't matter all that much to me. I care more about the inside, as corny as it may sound. And don't get me wrong, woman. Your body can do _wonders_ for my interest. But Maron, for example, is clearly _not_ the most intelligent female on this planet."

Bulma giggled.

"But I prefer a female who can argue effectively instead of following orders like a slave. Many males on this planet don't prefer such females, as I'm sure you can understand. And I also would like my mate to be able to handle herself in physical… _debates_."

"Then why are you with _me_?" Bulma asked, thinking along the lines that what they had just gone through labeled them as a couple. Vegeta didn't object, so she continued. "I'm not as powerful as a Saiyan female, right? So why would you bother with an Earthling like me?"

"It's ironic because I asked Kakarot that very same question when he introduced me to his raven for the first time. I didn't see how that was possible, but it appears that some Saiyans prefer a female who requires some level of protection. For Kakarot, it makes him feel needed on this planet, where there is no reason to fight with another. It does get quite boring, actually."

"And what about you? Do you enjoy protecting me?"

"Not really, to be honest with you. I think it's a bother. When you were almost killed by a fire in Orange Star High because you willingly went into the burning building, I thought that maybe you had a death wish. My protection for you has nothing to do with myself. I'm only attracted to protecting you because you seem to need protection every other day. I don't enjoy it at all, but since I'm fascinated with you, I realize that I need to keep you safe. And that makes you enticing."

"I didn't really get all that…" Bulma said, tilting her head.

"And I just called you intelligent. Maybe I should take it back."

Bulma ignored him and crawled closer on her elbows, until she was inches away from his face. "So…," she said, her breath covering him. She hoped she didn't smell like pepperoni pizza from the boardwalk. "Am I allowed to kiss you now?"

"Why do you say 'now'?" he asked, his breath fanning her face as well. But _his_ scent made Bulma's heart race.

"If I say that you've chosen me over you're planet and your desire to go home, are you going to get mad?" she asked, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation for the possibility of him leaving again.

"No."

Bulma opened her eyes and lifted an eyebrow at him. "That's it?" she said, "No ranting or yelling at me or running away?"

"Why? Is that what you would prefer?"

" _No_!" she yelped, her body jumping up an inch from the force of her volume. Vegeta slowly put his finger to her lips and shushed her.

"There are other people in this building, woman. Try not to wake them."

And then he was kissing her again, pulling her down on top of him. Bulma was shocked at first, but then relaxed and molded into the shape of him. Her lips fit together with his as if they had been torn apart at birth and her body melded against his as if they were made for each other.

When she felt the warmth of his fingertips on her bare skin, lifting up the hem of her scrappy t-shirt, she froze. Vegeta pulled away from her so that he could speak.

"I thought you said you were expecting me to do this," he said cunningly.

Bulma took a moment of silence to prepare herself, and then she leaned down and kissed him once more. But when he didn't move against her mouth, she pulled back.

"What?" she asked, perplexed.

"How about you _think_ for a moment? I know I can be persuasive sometimes, but try to ignore me for a moment."

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ , woman, that you need to tell me what you want to do, because you haven't given me an answer yet."

"Oh," she said. Closing her eyes and leaning her head against his chest, Bulma made herself look deep in thought. It was difficult to think clearly with him right next to her, but she already knew what she wanted. She didn't have to re-think it. She knew the answer would always come out the same. And listening to his heart beat inside his chest, right next to her ear, she knew that she wouldn't ever change her mind. There was nothing else to take into account… Was there?

She opened her eyes and looked deep into his, not three inches away. "What about… protection?" she asked.

"You don't think I'm not prepared, do you?" he asked with a chuckle, pointing to a light blue box on the nightstand. Bulma hadn't even realized it was there until he had just said something about it.

"How long have you been carrying _those_ around, dreamer boy?" she asked with a lively smile.

"Clearly my dreams aren't _just_ dreams, woman. So, how long I've had them shouldn't matter to you. The fact is that I have them _now_."

And then he pulled her back onto his body, holding her tight as he had done before, kissing her eagerly and obsessively. Bulma melted in his arms as he reached for the hem of her reedy t-shirt once more, this time pulling it off of her, over her head. She moved to reach for his shirt, but he was already flipping them over and removing it himself. As it hit the floor beside the bed, Bulma hungrily felt the heat coming off of his bare chest, onto the skin of her stomach.

Vegeta rolled them further so he was now in his rightful position on top. He reached his long fingers between them as Bulma cupped her hands around his face, slipping her impatient tongue into his mouth, between his parted lips as he panted. The quick rise and fall of his chest as he reached for air made Bulma let out a swift and low moan from deep in her throat. The sound came as unnatural to her and she felt her face turn red, but the feeling turned into unbridled lust as she felt Vegeta unbuttoning the single aluminum button on her jeans and pulling her small zipper down in a tantalizingly slow manner. It made her pant with enthusiasm.

Before her could get the chance to torture her with another slow movement, Bulma reached down and pulled off her jeans, flinging them somewhere in the room with her foot as her hands came back to Vegeta, exploring the shape of his body. She felt his washboard stomach tense as her cold fingers prodded at him, revealing the hard muscles beneath. She worked her way up to his shoulders and rounded them, pushing against his shoulder blades as she went down the sides of his back. Their lips never parted as she pushed off of him to reach for his blue spandex training pants.

As she tugged on the waistband, she felt his fingers grab at the hook of her bra, along her back. She paused when it came undone and he brushed the straps off of her shoulders. He moved to lift her off of him to pull it out from between them, and Bulma complied, lifting her middle up so he could toss her plain white bra onto the floor. She silently wished that she had worn something more exciting, but Vegeta didn't seem to care what she was wearing. And soon, she wouldn't be wearing anything at all.

The realization that the only things that were now separating them were his training pants and her panties hit her like a brick wall. She pulled his dark blue training pants down until the spandex no longer molded against his skin. When she finally pulled them all the way off, she rose back up to meet him. She loudly gasped when his big hands gripped her plush breasts, massaging them thoroughly as her face came back to his height on the bed.

"Vegeta," she quickly breathed, her hands coming to meet his. He chuckled and kissed her fleetingly before flipping them over once more, placing her on the bottom. He trailed his kisses down to the side of her neck and moaned against her skin. Bulma raced her hands up and down his sides, feeling the ridges of his ribcage and the thin layer of muscle that layered on top of them. The feel of him made her ripe with ecstasy.

As his kisses resumed, trailing past her neck onto her collarbone, Bulma couldn't help but close her eyes and let her body experience the things that she'd never felt before. It was pleasure like nothing she had ever felt. And it was Vegeta who was doing it to her. She wouldn't have had it any other way.

This was her dream boy, and this was her dream.

Vegeta soft lips made their way to her breasts and Bulma let out a sudden yelp when he flicked his tongue over her right nipple. Her left hand gripped and gently pulled on his ebony spikes as his tongue continued to fleetingly clash over her nipple, causing it to stiffen in her inclination of the moment. Her pants became more erratic and short-lived. Her chest rose and fell with the constant inhaling and exhaling at such rapid speeds. If Vegeta minded, she would have never guessed it.

When his tongue began trailing down her body again, Bulma shivered. She hardly noticed it when he ripped off her panties, tearing them at the seams and ruining them for life. And when she did notice them, she couldn't have cared any less.

His hot tongue met with the skin on her stomach and the light flicked on in her head. There was nothing between them but air, and even that was beginning to thin out. Her voice was paralyzed by the penetrating sensations stampeding through her system like a group of raging bulls. The eruption that was now emanating between her legs was as if those bulls had red cloth strapped over their eyes.

Bulma's back involuntarily arched towards the ceiling when his left hand came up to her left nipple. She let out a high pitched gasp as he rolled the soft pink flesh between his thumb and forefinger. It stiffened like the other and she uncontrollably shook for a moment. She never would have imagined that something could feel so erotic or bring about the sensations of her body like Vegeta was doing. It was pure bliss. She would have died and never looked back if that was the price she needed to pay.

"Shh," Vegeta soothed with a sly smirk. A chuckled followed as he ran both his hands over her stomach and pushing her ever so slightly so that her back hit the mattress once more. "Eager, are we?" he whispered seductively. The dimness of the light in the room made the experience that much more real.

When he let his body slink down lower, Bulma couldn't control her inevitable panting, her eyes glued to him like water to a river. She sharply inhaled when his hands curved over her hips and behind to cup her buttocks, squeezing her between his fingers as he sank ever lower. He reached down and ran his hands up the inside of her bare thigh. She threw her head back, her neck arching as she could only watch the white ceiling above her. She felt as if she had no control over her body. She couldn't make her neck move to tilt her head to watch him. It was frustrating and exhilarating at the same time.

Vegeta panted eagerly as well as he pushed her knees farther apart, cupping his hand between her legs. Bulma gasped once more and wasn't surprised in the least when her neck and back arched further, her hips rising off the mattress an inch or two. She heard Vegeta chuckle as he panted, moving his finger to trace over the parting of her labia. Bulma's mouth went agape in a silent scream. Her entire body vibrated against him.

Vegeta was happy to see that she was far into the land of voluptuous pleasure. She was past the point of no return. He couldn't believe how responsive she was to him. He looked forward to the other things he could make her do by stimulating the lower half of her body.

He gently parted her thighs and beheld her elegant ruby, glistening with her juices. He allowed his Saiyan senses to take in her sweet aroma. He instantly became intoxicated by her sweet scent. He tapped his long middle finger on her clitoris, making Bulma scream, her neck finally released from the invisible hold it had on her. She looked down at him, a fog in her eyes and her lips parted in yearning and lust. When he energetically flicked his right pointer and middle finger over her clit, Bulma shrieked, her legs tightening and remaining as unmoving as stone. Her body violently reacted to the incredible sensation. Her moans and pants became louder and more insistent.

She felt as if struck by lightning. Her body was over-sensitized by the amount of pleasurable pressure. And when she thought that her body wouldn't be able to take any more of it, she cried out as two of his long fingers snaked their way into her. His tongue replaced where his fingers had been, flicking over her clit like a tasty lollipop. She screamed when he crooked his finger inside her, stimulating her g-spot with every fraction of an inch of movement he made inside her.

Her body continued to vibrate and rumble as his fingers remained inside her and his face came back up to kiss her. She tasted the bitterly sweet taste of her juices on his lips as he roamed the inside of her mouth with his rough tongue. She could barely kiss him as his finger probed inside her. All she could do was pant against his kisses.

She let out a shriek of delight against his lips as he roughly grated his middle finger along her g-spot at top speeds. She finally gained back some control and slipped her tongue into his mouth, entering into a fierce battle with his sandpaper tongue. She continued to sharply exhale, and she giggled when she noticed him having a hard time as well.

She moved her head and flicked her tongue over his ear, tenderly grabbing at his earlobe with her front teeth. She felt him shiver against her and growl from deep in his throat. He removed his fingers and Bulma exhaled, as if she had just completed a marathon run.

"Care to check if your meal is ready?" he asked, breathing heavily. Bulma couldn't help but laugh and reluctantly reached down, between them. She had never done something like this before. Having the ball in her court made her extremely nervous, but she trusted in the fact that Vegeta was clearly enjoying this as much as she was. She thought of this as her chance to show him that she could do wonders for him as well.

Instead of continuing to reach for his partner, Bulma took her hands and pushed on him in a way that told him to flip over. He didn't object, and when Bulma was once again on the top, she kissed him passionately, depravedly. And before he could respond, she separated their lips and trailed wet kisses down to his neck. When she reached his chest, she smiled to find him panting heavily, his moans and grunts getting louder every time she kissed him farther down on his body. His pants became urgent as she took some time to suck on his left nipple, running her hands up and down the front of his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles tense and loosen the closer she got to his hips.

Bulma lowered herself down to trail her tongue down his stomach until she reached her destination. When she flicked her tongue over the tip of his erection, she felt the bed creak from his muscles tightening and his fingers clawing at the sheets on the mattress. She drew his entire length into her mouth, hearing a low gasp. His body vibrated, as hers had done before. She giggled when his hips moved insistently, pushing against her lips as his entire form shivered uncontrollably. His legs tightened and untightened. She ran her tongue down his shaft, driving a hoarse cry of pleasure from his lungs. She continued licking and sucking him, pausing each time she felt him nearing an orgasm.

Finally, she drew her head up, pleased to see that his breathing was heavy and irregular. His body was shaking slightly and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. She crawled up his god-like form, using his shoulders to pull herself back up on top of him.

"Do you… enjoy… torturing me,… woman?" he asked saying each pairing of words in a loud exhale followed by a sharp inhale. The deep sound made Bulma feel like she had some sort of power over a Saiyan, which she currently did. The simple fact was stimulating. She never knew a sound could be so erotic to her senses.

"I don't think _torture_ is the right word," Bulma heavily breathed, only to be taken by surprise as he flipped them over again and positioned himself on top of her. He quickly grabbed the blue box on the nightstand, ripping it open with what she could only describe as a Saiyan's force. He definitely desired her now.

Bulma braced for impact.


	25. A Night to Remember part 3

**Chapter Twenty-Four: A Night to Remember pt. 3**

Vegeta gripped the small, light blue box in his large fist, tearing at it with gentle force, knowing the drastic problem if he just used all of his strength and the precious items inside the box managed to become useless. The only problem was that he was rushing to get at them now.

Bulma laughed and reached up, putting her tiny hands over his and smoothing them over. As she expected him to, he dropped the box into her hands and Bulma gently tore open the cardboard top, handing it back to him. He dug inside, and threw the box over his shoulder when his hand came out with his prize. Bulma wondered where the box may have gone, but she didn't care when his skin was once again touching the bare flesh on her chest and stomach, their body heats colliding and melding into one steamy energy.

When Vegeta was ready, Bulma felt his member being positioned at her entrance. Her body screamed at him to just do it already, but she kept quiet for his benefit. Plus, she didn't want to rush this moment to its sadly inevitable conclusion. She never wanted it to end, and technically, it hadn't even begun, really. Her panting came back as he smirked down at her, below him, chuckling at her obvious impatience. And here she had been thinking that he was the impatient one only a few moments ago.

He slid one leg between hers and pushed them wide apart, using his Saiyan force once again. It was driving Bulma crazy and her mind was spinning like a pinwheel in a violent tornado. She quickly wrapped her arms under his thick muscled shoulders and lightly gripped the skin on his solid back. His perfect posture allowed her to feel the outline of his shoulder blades. She expeditiously trailed her fingertips down the center of his spine and back up again.

And then, as swift as lightning, he pushed himself into her. Bulma opened her mouth in a silent scream as he grunted against the side of her neck. His breath was cool against her flesh, like she had felt the first time he had gotten close to her, back at Chichi's house. It was like a vision of dejá-vu, just it came and went as if it were a burning spark, flying into the air above the roaring fire. It felt like that day had been months ago, when it had only been about one. Memories flashed before her of the first time she saw him, turning around in the hallway and hearing his masculine voice getting annoyed with her. She couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh as he filled her up with his partner.

" _Oh_ …" she moaned loudly and slowly. The sensation was exquisite. She felt her insides expanding as he slid all the way up to his hilt, pausing for a moment before pulling out, almost all the way. When he shoved back into her, Bulma gasped and Vegeta picked up speed, drilling into her with a steady beat.

She closed her eyes as she held onto him, pulling him closer with every thrust. She felt him move at an awkward angle and she reopened her eyes, only to find that her sight was no longer useful to her. Vegeta had reached to turn off the dimly lit lamplight on the nightstand next to the bed. The darkness of the room allowed Bulma to clearly see the tiny portion of light, shining through the curtain from the bright moon outside.

She felt her body light on fire and welcomed the heat with another gasp against the top of Vegeta's right shoulder. She let her lips roam over his hot skin as his entire body moved up and down with static grace, grinding against her with his familiar Saiyan force.

Vegeta's arrogance and pride was only fueling his desire for her, and Bulma was enjoying her moment of control. As his body rubbed against her and his hips moved quickly back and forth, shoving into her, her body jerking with the pleasures and inclinations of his movements, Vegeta knew that nothing in the world could change his mind now. He would never go back to Planet Vegeta. He would never return to take his throne and command his race as King. He would never face his father again. He would never be welcomed home by his slaves, serving him meals on gold plates with real silver wear. He would never be served like the royalty that he was.

But he found himself not caring as much as he thought he would. He was content. He knew it could have just been the fact that he was making love to the most beautiful and fascinating creature this planet had to offer, but it was also something more. He didn't _want_ to leave. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to complete his mission. He couldn't even bring himself to care about anything else than remaining on Planet Earth with this exotic and flawless female and her captivating charms. He had never felt so _alive_ in all his life.

As if to prove his thoughts to her, he moved his waist overenthusiastically against Bulma, smiling and closing his eyes every time he heard her gasp and moan.

"Oh, God! _Vegeta_!" She screamed his name and he responded with more force. He moved quicker and more fluently, hitting her where he knew she would enjoy it the most. " _Oh_!" she yelped again feeling the pleasures he was inflicting upon her. He wanted to give her everything he had. He wanted to show her that he was the best. He wanted her to never look at another male the same way she looked at him. And, to his surprise, he wanted her to understand exactly what she meant to him. He wanted to prove to her that he wasn't going anywhere and he didn't want to. He wasn't even sure that he believed that himself…

Bulma reached her hands up to cup them around his face and bring his mouth to hers eagerly. She kissed him fiercely, forcing her tongue between his lips insistently. Vegeta complied by responding in the same way, but he knew that the kisses were just about over. He bucked his hips excitedly and their kiss broke as Bulma couldn't help but let out a loud and instant scream.

"Ve _ge_ ta!" she shrieked. Vegeta grunted as he let his tongue trail along her neck and up to her ear, gently biting her earlobe and tugging ever so slightly. "Oh!—"

Bulma moved her hands all over Vegeta's body, feeling where he was in the darkness of the night. It only proved to make the atmosphere even more passionate and mysterious. She had wanted Vegeta so badly and now she was finally having him. And he was having her. It was like a dream.

Unexpectedly, voices in her mind spoke about how teenage boys weren't mature enough to get into serious relationships. Bulma almost burst out laughing at her own thoughts. Vegeta was certainly _not_ the average teenage boy, and his maturity was way above normal. Sometimes she wished he would be a little immature sometimes. But the point was that Vegeta was something special. He wasn't going to mate with her now and then leave her. She knew him better than she thought. And another voice was telling her that this was only the beginning of something greater than just one night down the shore in a crappy hotel room. But she couldn't quite place her finger on it what it truly was.

Getting sucked into the moment, Bulma felt the oncoming collision of an orgasm. She had always wondered what it would be like, and now it was as if she knew the feeling by heart. The anticipation was killing her.

"Harder," she whispered forcibly, and Vegeta willingly complied with added force to his motions. "Faster," Bulma said softly, " _Please,_ Vegeta." He chuckled silently, picking up speed. But his chuckle came out with a sharp exhale. He, too, knew it was coming.

Beads of sweat dotted Vegeta's forehead and slicked over his bare flesh. Bulma could taste his salts in her mouth and feel his body sliding against hers as if car oil was between them. With her legs spread wide, her middle felt very wet and slimy. But all she could focus on was the feelings that were washing over her. Her legs straitened and stiffened, vibrating with the pressure as Vegeta drove into her hard, pulling out and shoving into her with everything he had, giving her the last of his reserves. His grunts became louder and more persistent. His cool breath had become hot once again and Bulma felt him shoving the blanket off the end of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, attempting to pull her ever closer. And for the first time since she met him, Bulma could literally and physically feel his restraints on his own powers, so that he wouldn't hurt her. Bulma knew his Saiyan abilities were far above that of an Earthling such as herself, and she couldn't help but feel a bit bad for him at that moment, having to hold back because of his own strength.

One of his hands slid up and down over the side of her hip as more of a reaction than something he did on purpose. Bulma continued to breathe, every exhale coming out as a quick scream either containing his name or the name of the god she didn't always believe in. The orgasm was lasting longer than she originally thought an orgasm would, and she was enjoying every second of it. Vegeta seemed to have some sort of deity-like ability when it came to sex. Although Bulma had nothing to compare it to, she believed him to be the best she would have had if she'd never met him in the first place. It was the closest thing she could think of to mentally compliment him without having any prior experience to compare him to.

The air was filled with passion and severe tension—severe sexual tension. Vegeta's hands involuntarily moved up to caress her plush breasts and tightened nipples as she vibrated against him, panting and stiffening because of the intense orgasm she was experiencing. And just as quickly as it had come, it was over. Bulma gasped as he pulled out of her.

When enough time had passed for them to loosen up a little, Vegeta rolled off of her, relaxed and exhausted. He closed his eyes and let his breathing slow down to its regular rhythm. Bulma's breathing didn't fix itself as quickly, but she rolled onto her side and rested her head on his chest, stroking his stomach with the back of her hand until her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep, a smile placed on her pink lips.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma woke up to silence, a bit of morning light coming in from the window and low temperatures. She had to keep reminding herself that even though she was down the shore, it was still almost the season of autumn and the weather wasn't getting any warmer. Even though it looked like Vegeta had placed the blanket over her, he wasn't there to keep her warm. The silence wasn't anything new to her, but she wondered where Vegeta had gone off to. She wished he had stayed until she woke up at the least, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't do such a thing.

The sound of running water made Bulma turn to the entrance of the bedroom. The sound ceased and she heard the bathroom door open. The next thing she knew, Vegeta walked out and strode into the bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. And even though she had made love to him the night before, the idea that they were both nearly naked in a room together was still a bit unnerving to her.

Another thing she was surprised to see was that his usually naturally spiked hair was matted down on his head by water. It was dripping onto the carpet, but he didn't seem to care in the least. He looked over at her and at first, he wore no expression. Bulma smiled at him, unable to contain it anyway.

"Good morning, Vegeta," she said, as if they had some kind of inside joke. She couldn't help herself. It was a dream come true.

But when he only grunted in response and turned to the dresser to grab some clothes, Bulma's smile vanished. When he had his clothes, he turned and headed back to the bathroom, leaving Bulma alone again with worry and confusion. She was confused because of his response, but she was mostly worried. She wondered if he regretted last night. What if he changed his mind and wanted to go home now that he had her in that way? What if he didn't think her inexperienced body was good enough for him? Bulma's heart raced and her mind panicked. What did she do wrong? Was he going to come back into the room, deciding that it was best to just kill her and get it over with? Was he satisfied that she wasn't what he thought she'd be? She suddenly felt very vulnerable, being under a blanket with no clothes on. It made her feel insignificant and frightened. She was sorry for whatever she had done wrong. She felt her body heat rising with her mental panic. She didn't want him to feel that way. All she wanted was—

Vegeta half-ran back into the bedroom, glaring at her.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, woman?!" he bellowed and Bulma jumped, looking over at him, still in his towel, standing in the doorway. When she didn't respond, Vegeta entered the room and walked over to the side of the bed, glaring daggers at her. "What's wrong with you?" he repeated, looking down at her.

"Nothing," she replied quickly, and then decided to add, "Really, it was nothing. Sorry about that." she forced a smile, knowing that her thoughts must have been way out of line. What was she thinking? Vegeta wouldn't do such a thing. Not now. Not ever. She mentally scolded herself for carelessly letting her thoughts run wild like that. She should have remembered that he could feel when something was wrong. She hadn't meant to get him all worked-up.

Vegeta remained quiet, glancing over her form, gently folded into the blanket covering her bare body. Bulma flushed as his eyes roamed over her covered form. Even after last night, she couldn't help it. Before, she had felt that maybe something about them or her reactions to him would have changed. But everything seemed the same. And it wasn't just her. Vegeta's bare chest was exposed and she couldn't help but let her eyes roam over his form as well.

Bulma knew that if something was going to happen, she was going to have to initiate it, because it didn't look like Vegeta's desires were about to overpower his will anytime soon, for whatever reason. But it did look like they wanted to…

Ignoring her own will, Bulma brushed the blanket aside and swung her legs over the opposite side of the bed that Vegeta was on. She stood, feeling the heat of his watchful eyes on her bare flesh. She found herself not minding all that much, but she rushed towards the light blue box on the other side of the room.

When she turned around, Vegeta was already directly behind her. She jumped, right into his protective embrace. Their lips locked immediately and Bulma breathed into him, exchanging his air for hers with each inhale and exhale. They were together once more.

As Bulma tangled her fingers in his flat, wet hair, she giggled.

"What?" he mumbled arrogantly against her mouth.

"You've still got some soap in your hair," she whispered back, parting her lips and sliding her tongue over his bottom lip.

In the next instant, Bulma's legs were pulled up around Vegeta's waist and he was carrying her towards the bathroom. She felt his towel and kicked it off with her foot when he turned on the water for the shower. Bulma was pulled up so that her head was above her dream boy's. Her entire body relaxed as she felt the warm water on her back and Vegeta stepped into the gentle stream of water. She jumped when her back was unexpectedly pressed against the cold tiles of the shower walls.

She heard the noise of something being thrown and guessed that it could have only been that poor light blue box again. Without warning, Vegeta instantly shoved into her. Bulma gasped and tugged on his hair as her legs tightened around him and she violently gasped. She hadn't expected it so quickly after last night, but she guessed it didn't matter anyway. This was the prize at the end of the race either way.

She buried her face in his wet, somewhat-soapy hair and breathed in the scent of his shampoo.

When Vegeta shoved harder and faster into her, pressing her entire back against the cold wall behind her, Bulma unlocked her legs from around him to try and stand on her own. One leg came up involuntarily anyway to wrap around the back of his left knee. She heard him sliding the curtain shut and dimness consumed the inside of the shower.

When Bulma's second orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, she felt her body weakening.

"Vegeta," she whispered, panting between moans, "Vegeta, I can't… I can't stand…" Before her legs gave out, Vegeta leaned forward, holding her up against the side of the cold tile wall with his weight as his breath came out in ridged shivers and swift grunts. The fingers of his right hand roughly gripped her buttocks to help hold her up, while his left fingers softly dug into the skin on her back, pulling her closer to him to keep her steady.

He grunted ferociously and he jackhammered his hips into her like construction project on the highway. Bulma screamed again. Another orgasm already; this was her lucky day. "Oh, Please! Vegeta, please!— _Please_! _Oh, please_!"

When it was over, Bulma closed her eyes. Her legs were still too weak to give her the power or ability to stand on her own, so she wrapped her arms around Vegeta's neck and hung on him like a sack of potatoes. The water poured on her face, but her eyes were closed so she didn't care.

Vegeta slowly let himself drop to his knees, having Bulma do the same, as he lifted his arms to wash out his hair again. Bulma dropped her hands down to his waist and caressed his hips, trailing her fingers along his six-pack abs and his bumpy ribcage. She made it to his flawless chest and forcibly rubbed her palms against his muscles, her eyes still closed as water streamed down her face. She kept her hands still for a moment to feel how his muscles moved as he rinsed his hair thoroughly. She flicked her fingers over his nipples and leaned her head forward, not bothering to open her eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders for her own support and sucked on his left nipple, raking her tongue over it first. She moaned, getting into the erotic nature of her actions and movements. She felt Vegeta tighten his body and grunt a little when she flicked her tongue the right way. After about a minute, she had mentally taken notes on what he liked and focused on those particular things. Running her tongue from the southwest to the northeast and back again multiple times made his breathing speed up. She pressed harder and scraped her soft tongue against him diagonally, hearing his pants and grunts as he tried to focus on his hair.

When his hands dropped from above his head, indicating that he was finished, he gripped both side of Bulma's hips and lifted her up with relative ease. Her spread legs went to either side of him as he prepared to enter her once more.

It was going to be a long morning…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma stared at the ceiling, her breathing finally back to normal. She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, looking around and wondering when they had gotten to the floor directly below the window in the bedroom. She didn't recall how they had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was being on the bed, beneath the warmth of the sheets and blanket. The day had turned out to be a cold one after all.

She looked down to her left to find Vegeta, softly snoring with one hand on his chest. The other was spread out along the rough carpet. He wasn't wearing any clothes, and Bulma still hadn't gotten used to it yet. She took the moment to look him over without him watching her. Maybe then she'd be a little less nervous when they did this again. And she didn't doubt that they would _definitely_ do this again.

When she had gotten her fill of his extremely masculine and god-like form, Bulma stood and stretched her arms above her head again, stretching out her entire body this time. She walked over to the dresser and pulled out her bag. She unzipped the top and pulled out her underwear, a pair of jeans and a new shirt that she had gotten with Chichi on the boardwalk. It was florescent pink and very flashy, compared to what she usually wore. She hoped Vegeta would like it. He hadn't seen it when she bought it. He had been off with Goku somewhere at the time.

When she was fully dressed, she looked back over at Vegeta. She knew that if she opened the curtain on the window, then the sunlight would shine directly in his eyes, waking him. But she decided that she wasn't that mean. She wanted him to get his sleep so that he wasn't tired later on… for more important things.

She pulled out her cell phone from her purse and turned it on. After waiting the ten seconds it took to turn on, a screen came up that said she missed three texts from Chichi. After checking that the time was a little after noon, she opened the first one. It read, "Come on, sleepy-head! Wake up so we can go to the beach!" She raised a fine eyebrow and cautiously opened the second text. It read, "Never mind. Goku told me what's going on over there. Wink, wink. ;D" She flushed, remembering that Goku was a Saiyan, too, and he could sense everything Vegeta could. It sometimes bothered her, but now she _really_ minded it. Bulma held her breath and then exhaled it. No text could be worse than the last one, she presumed. The third text read, "Goku and I decided to stop waiting for you two to finish, so we headed off to the boardwalk again. Don't expect us back any time before midnight. Have fun with whatever else you're going to be doing today, if there IS anything else…"

Bulma froze for only a moment before shutting her phone with a slap from her hand and throwing it down into the bottom of her purse. She stomped over to the window and violently shoved open the curtains, letting the bright sunlight flood directly onto Vegeta's face and closed eyelids. He grunted and flipped over, covering his head with an arm. Bulma loudly sighed and walked into the bathroom, grabbing Vegeta's clothes from the morning, and she walked back into the bedroom. Before making another move, she took another moment to look over the backside of his flawless body.

She shook her head to snap herself out of it and held the pile of his regular blue spandex clothing out, above him. She let it go and the pile hit him in the small of his back. He grunted again and lifted his hand as if she would understand whatever he meant by that movement. His breathing evened out again and he was back into a deep sleep.

And then, something completely unexpected occurred. The large man from the neighboring motel room walked past the window and glanced inside. At first, he walked right by with only a glance as Bulma held her breath, but then the man backed up and paused to take a long look at the sight laid out before him. He looked at Vegeta, naked on the floor, and then back up to her. His eyes focused on her in a way she really didn't like, and when he raised his hand to sarcastically wave to her, she noticed he was holding a nearly empty bottle of wine. Bulma's heart skipped a beat, and Vegeta was instantly up, shutting the curtains in one fluent motion.

He turned back to her with a scowl on his face.

"Some people…" he began, and then decided not to continue. Bulma tried to keep her eyes on his face as he picked up his pile of clothes and started putting them on. "Where's Kakarot and his raven?" he suddenly asked, looking up as if they had been standing next to him only moments ago. She guessed he realized that he couldn't sense them in the other room.

"They went to the boardwalk," Bulma replied solemnly, not wanting to be forced to say anything more.

"They got tired of waiting?" he asked, already knowing that the answer to his question was yes. The worst part to Bulma was that he seemed genuinely amused by the little piece of information. "I'm guessing that the clothes-look means that we're done for the day?" he asked, and Bulma didn't even bother answering his rhetorical questions. "Or this part of it, anyway," he added, mumbling as he threw his shirt over his head and pulled it down, flattening the tight material over his thick-muscled chest. Bulma couldn't stop her eyes from wandering at least that far down. Besides, that look was virtually harmless in this case.

Vegeta walked by her towards the exit and turned towards the refrigerator. Opening it and finding nothing, he grumbled irritated-like and walked towards the entrance to the hotel room.

He called back to her, "Woman, we're going to get something to eat!"


	26. Exposure

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Exposure**

Bulma looked across the high, round table, trying desperately to hold in her laugh. Deciding that he didn't want to chance meeting up with Goku and Chichi, Vegeta had driven Bulma to a café on the edge of town. He was currently shoveling piles of food into his mouth at top speeds. Bulma slowly twisted her fork in her pasta and sauce and delicately placed a small-sized forkful in her mouth as she watched Vegeta. He stopped shoveling to glance up at her for a moment.

"What's so funny?" he grumbled past his mouth full of fries and a slice of pizza. Some cheese was still attached to the plate by a melted string. Bulma smiled and pursed her lips.

"I guess I can pay for all this," she said, letting out a small giggle, "Seeing as you can easily bankrupt yourself in one meal." Vegeta tilted his head and she thought he was about to decline her offer, but then he just shrugged.

"Whatever you want," he replied, beginning to shovel food down his throat again. Bulma knew it was traditional for the man to pay for the meal, but she had already decided that there was absolutely nothing traditional about them. Plus, she had money to throw around while Vegeta did not. It was a simple and easy decision for her to make.

After Vegeta had his fill of lunch and Bulma finished her plate of pasta and white sauce, she paid the bill and left an extremely large tip for whichever poor waiter had to deal with her and her hungry Saiyan boyfriend.

Everything seemed so new and exciting for her now that things between them were as perfect as perfect could be. Bulma knew that their fiery nights together weren't even close to over, which meant that they had something going for them. But even more remarkable was the simple fact that Vegeta had willingly chosen her over his entire planet and his _throne_ , nonetheless. She felt pretty special to have a prince choose her over his title and his command. It was like a dream come true. Her dream boy was no longer a dream to her. He was anything she wanted him to be.

Vegeta stretched as they walked out of the café and diner. Unexpectedly, when his hands dropped back down to his sides, he took Bulma's hand and entwined his fingers with hers. It was a short walk to his motorcycle, so it didn't last very long, but Bulma cherished every second of it. If this was what love felt like, then she was never going to let him go. She instantly feared what could have happened, should he have decided to leave last night instead of staying with her. But he was here now, so she had nothing to worry about.

"Where are we going now?" she asked, looking up at the bright blue sky. It was an hour after the middle of the day and the sun's heat was diminishing some of the cold winds that brushed past Bulma and pushed her hair every which way and back again.

"The beach," he replied.

"The beach? But, Vegeta, the water is probably freezing. And my bathing suit is back at the hotel room anyway. I don't carry it around with me everywhere I go, you know."

"Then we'll go back and get it first," he said simply and Bulma tilted her head at the lack of his usual insult or criticism. Maybe having a productive morning put him in a good mood for the remainder of the day. "And try not be so forgetful all the time. Sex won't get you what you want forever." Or maybe not…

But the notion that she could get what she wanted because she was having sex with him was almost more enticing than the sex itself. She was now Vegeta's prize, but every time he wanted her, she had to approve of him and what they were going to do. He had no control over the situation because he clearly would never mind sleeping with her even if he was an inch from the end of his life or just flat-out tired. She snickered at the things she could make him do.

"Stop getting horrible ideas stuck in your head, woman," he added sternly, seeing her expressive smile at his previous comment.

When they were both on the motorcycle and Bulma had her familiar black helmet on, Vegeta drove over the speed limit without getting caught, as usual, until they arrived at the hotel. Bulma swung her leg over the side and balanced herself on the ground from the windy ride. Vegeta set his ride down on the kickstand and led the way to their room, key in hand.

Along the way, the big man that Bulma regrettably had to call her hotel neighbor was sitting outside his room on one of the plastic chairs. His face was flushed, but he wasn't holding any empty bottles. She knew something was wrong with him when Vegeta pulled her arm until she was standing on the right side of him. Vegeta was between them as they walked by and Bulma could have sworn she heard growling from deep in his throat.

"I saw you two havin' a good time, this mornin'. Maybe I could join ya next time, sweetheart," the man said suddenly. Bulma was about to walk faster when she realized that Vegeta was no longer by her side. She turned to find him standing in front of the burly man, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Vegeta, what are you—"

"Listen, you drunk bastard," he said violently, uncrossing his arms and making a show of clenching his fists tighter and tighter, "If you value your sanity, then you'll never speak to my mate again. If you value your life, then you'll never look at her like that again. Do you understand me? I mean that I'm going to rip your head from that stubby little neck of yours if you do anything I don't like. Anything at all. That being said, maybe you should avoid me altogether. And if my mate even brings you up in one of our conversations, I'll come over here and tear you apart. My advice to you right now is to leave this hotel, maybe even this entire region, because your presence here is already beginning to piss me off. And after this morning, you're just lucky you still have your balls, old man, because you might not have them when you wake up tomorrow morning. Or maybe when you wake up screaming during the night."

The man was clearly drunk, because Bulma would have peed in her pants if Vegeta's current look had been placed on her. The burly man was half-smiling.

"What's so funny, you fucking bastard?" Vegeta snarled. "You think I'm joking? You really think I'm not about to kill you where you stand?!"

"Ve _ge_ ta!" Bulma cried, not wanting to have to deal with the police right now. Or at any time for that matter.

"Heeeeeey," the burly man said with a drunken snicker, "You're the superman from the news, aren't you?"

Vegeta froze and Bulma tilted her head.

"What does he mean?" she asked, not liking the Saiyan Prince's reaction to such a silly comment.

"Yeah," the man said, standing up and wobbling back and forth. He was a good half a foot taller than Vegeta. "You're the guy that saved that girl from falling off the ride at the boardwalk… And _you're_ the girl that he saved. Geez, no wonder you gave him a night to remember. It must have been nice… I wish I could save a pretty girl like you." When his eyes drifted below her face and widened with passionate excitement, Bulma turned red, but not before Vegeta threw a punch into the man's gut. He doubled over and retched on the ground. Bulma would have reprimanded Vegeta, but she felt that he deserved what he got. No man should look at a girl that way, drunk or not.

"Go put your bathing suit on so we can get out of here," he commanded after opening the door to their motel room and holding it open for her to enter under his outstretched arm.

When she was inside, he shut the door behind them and placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the bedroom. Bulma's heart raced when the familiarity of the room brought back the feeling of last night into this morning. She instantly felt hotter when she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it on the ground. She wished the room had the air conditioning unit on. It was always cold enough at night, but not now, of course.

She felt that since both she and Vegeta had seen the other naked, it was perfectly all right for her to change in front of him. She saw nothing wrong with it, anyway.

"If you want to get out of here any time before tomorrow, you should go change in the bathroom," Vegeta said, stretching himself out on the bed with a fake yawn. Bulma glanced over at him questionably, doubting her own reasoning for a moment, and instantly noticed the slightly swelling bulge in his dark blue spandex training pants. She quickly looked away and grabbed her bathing suit, heading for the bathroom. She heard Vegeta chuckle behind her.

"Yes, woman. That's called an erection. It happens sometimes. If you can't get used to it now, then you should probably stay as far away from me as… _humanly_ possible." Bulma instantly shut the door on him and accidentally slammed it shut, jumping because of the loud noise and banging her hand on the sink. She yelped in shock and hit the soap bottle off the counter as she spun around, holding her wounded hand with a pout on her face. She silently snarled when she heard Vegeta chuckle from back in the bedroom.

She bent over and picked the soap bottle up off the floor, thinking about what was going to happen to them. If Vegeta was on the news, then everyone would know his secret. They wouldn't have any idea about Goku being a Saiyan as well, but her main concern was Vegeta. She remembered a bunch of movies where people would capture strange people to do tests on them. Although she doubted that Vegeta could be captured by anyone or anything anyone created, she knew that the information being out in the open could only bring trouble.

The other thoughts she had revolved around herself. Did she really want everyone to know about Vegeta while they were in their current situation in school? Half of the students already thought that Vegeta was staying at her house just so that they could have sex together. The last thing she needed was for everyone to think that she was sleeping with an alien. But it was kind of inevitable now.

The second thought she had about herself was the fact that her parents loved to watch the news channel whenever they got a free moment. They were bound to see her eventually. Her mother would certainly freak out when she saw Bulma free-falling from a malfunctioning roller coaster. And Bulma knew her father wouldn't approve of her being more than just friends with a teen boy who can obviously fly. According to her father, girls shouldn't be dating until after they were out of college and had their own job and money. Bulma had just never considered herself in that statement because she had never felt like this about anyone before. It was pure heaven, being with Vegeta.

After she was successfully changed into her bathing suit, Bulma grabbed her clothes and opened the bathroom door. Hoping that her dream boy wouldn't make any extra comments about her appearance, good or bad, she allowed herself to walk into the bedroom and throw her clothes into a corner, making herself a dirty clothes pile. She couldn't have put her other dirty clothes in that pile before because Vegeta had nearly torn them to shreds. She mentally chuckled. She wondered what new surprises her Saiyan Prince would have for her today.

"Are you ready?" Bulma asked, turning to the bed, but he wasn't there. She looked around and even checked the tiny kitchen and entrance room. He wasn't even in the hotel room. She opened the door and stepped outside. It was freezing outside and her lack of clothing made it all the worse. She leaned forward and looked down each pathway, where the rooms' entrances were lined up on the bottom floor of the Oceanview Motel.

A loud thump drew her attention to the right, where she suddenly saw Vegeta swaggering towards her, as if he had just won the Nobel Prize for something he really shouldn't have.

"If you don't want our neighbor's face to look any uglier, I would advise you to go back inside our room before he has the chance to piss me off again," he said simply, almost proud of himself.

"What did you do?" Bulma asked, a bit embarrassed by the fact that her tone revealed that she was more interested in the entertainment value of what he had said than the welfare of the man he had probably just beat half to death. She just hoped that the outcome of being beaten half to death two times wasn't based on mathematical principles.

"We're not going anywhere, woman," he said, turning her around with a hand on each of her shoulders, "Get back inside before your weak Earthling immune system fails and you get sick."

The door was shut behind them and Bulma rolled her eyes. She went back into the room to put her clothes back on and get out of her bathing suit when she heard her phone vibrating from the bedroom. She jogged to catch it and picked it up, noticing that it was Chichi just in time to prepare for the high pitched squeal.

"Bulma! You're all over the news!" she yelped. "Somebody caught Vegeta saving you from your near death experience on camera and there are rumors all over the place about Vegeta. Can you imagine what will happen when we get back home? The gossipers in school are going to know all about this by the time we get back and I don't know if— No! Goku, stop that!—"

"Hi, Bulma. It's Goku. What Chichi means to say is that everyone now knows that Vegeta can fly and they think he's the modern version of Superman. Although he doesn't have a weakness like kryptonite, and if you asked him, he'd probably say that Superman wouldn't stand a chance."

Bulma laughed as she heard Chichi yelling in the background. "Sorry, Goku, but that's old news. We heard all about it already. But they don't know about you, do they? They couldn't know about you as well because you didn't do anything supernatural, right?"

"That's true, but I might as well have. What's the difference if they know about Vegeta or both of us? They still know that something's not right. But I think this could lead to more problems than what we had already."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, it could easily attract attention. I don't know whether or not you like that kind of stuff, but I know that Vegeta sure doesn't. He hates extra attention with a burning passion. It might wind up putting him in an even worse mood than he's usually in."

Bulma turned from a slight sound and jumped, seeing Vegeta standing directly behind her. He snatched the phone out of her hands and held it to his mouth.

"Oh, you want to see a bad mood, Kakarot? Why don't you get over here and I'll gladly show you a _bad_ _mood_!" And then he slammed the phone shut, making Bulma jump at an uninviting crackling noise and his strength, which could cost her a good amount of money along with a brand new phone. He tossed it back into her purse and began to storm out of the room. But then he paused and turned around watching her interestingly. "Are you going to change or not?" he asked, and Bulma's face turned red at his deliberate meaning.

"I was planning on it, but I don't know if I can get out of this tight bathing suit all by myself," she replied with a tiny smile, just enough to show the front of her sparkly white teeth.

Vegeta playfully snarled to show his teeth in return. Bulma rolled her eyes again and started taking off her top, her back to her dream boy. But before she could get anything done, she could feel his familiarly cool breath on her neck, making shivers run up and down her spine. His arms slowly wrapped around her. He was very warm and she melted backwards into him, ridding herself of the goose bumps that had formed from standing outside the hotel door as the cold wind rolled by, brushing away all her warmth. Now she was eagerly stealing Vegeta's body heat as she was gently lifted and placed on the bed. It hadn't even been made from the previous night and it didn't look like a maid had come to change the sheets either. It felt a little gross to Bulma, but when the bottom piece of her bathing suit came off, she couldn't have cared any less.

Once again, it was going to be a long day…


	27. Welcome Back

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Welcome Back**

Bulma swung her leg over the right side of the motorcycle and hopped off. Vegeta soon followed, and as she looked up at her house, she was happy to be home. While everything in the world had changed for her while she was away, life back home hadn't changed a bit. Her house looked exactly the same. The driveway was the same. The only thing that was different was the mail. As she looked it over, a letter from her parents caught her eye. She wondered what they would be sending her a letter for. Anything that they needed to tell her could easily be said through a text message or even a phone call.

Holding the pile of mail under her right arm and straddling her square luggage between her legs, she stuck her key into the lock on the back door. When she turned the knob and the door opened, Bulma turned around to scowl at Vegeta, who was making a point of being impatient. The least he could have done was take the key and unlock the damn door himself. He only had a small plastic shopping bag with his clothes and toothbrush inside. Bulma guessed that he didn't really need anything other than the essentials. But the simple fact that he had enough nerve to roll his eyes as she struggled with her packs and opened the door bothered her to no end. He was starting to push her buttons already and it was almost time for lunch.

The vacation had been a refreshing rejuvenation for Bulma. Now, she had the remainder of the day to finish any schoolwork and get caught up with the material that she had missed from Friday. It wasn't a lot, so the amount of time was perfect. She would even be able to get to bed early if Vegeta didn't try anything funny. It had been a nice stimulant and it still felt wonderful. She wished she didn't have to go to school tomorrow, though. And she couldn't skip because she had missed too many days already.

"You could have at least held the door," Bulma sighed, dropping her bags on the floor as soon as she entered the kitchen. It wasn't worth it to her if there was anything fragile inside them. She knew that there wasn't, which made the situation much better.

"You could have asked," he replied thoughtfully, as if she really should have, and was in the wrong because she failed to do so. Bulma frowned and picked her bags up again, heading for the stairs. She dropped them again at the bottom of the flight of stairs for a breather, and then picked them back up again, holding her breath until she reached the top and chucked them into her bedroom.

"Thanks again," she mumbled and rolled her eyes.

"I guess our current relationship status no longer prevents me from sleeping anywhere but the couch in your downstairs living room?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow in awaited response.

"After not holding the door or offering to take my bags? I don't think so, Vegeta. And a girl should never have to ask a man to be kind, or polite, even. Even if that man happens to be a snotty jerk from a different planet who cares only about himself." She nodded haughtily when she was finished with her tiny rant.

Vegeta pursed his lips. "How about dinner?" he asked and Bulma almost fell over.

"You've almost used up my stash in case a natural disaster strikes, so I suppose you can go in the basement and grab whatever you want. But I'm not making anything for you, so don't even ask me to."

Vegeta, at the notion of waiting food elsewhere, charged off. Bulma, on the other hand, pulled the thick pile of mail from under her arm and checked out what she missed. Most of them were credit card and shopping bills. The monthly payment for the house was also due. Looking at the unopened letter from her parents, she wondered if that payment was inside. It seemed logical enough. She couldn't sign her parents' checks, so they would have to pay it themselves by either sending it to the company or to her so that she could send it to the company for them.

Opening the regular-sized white envelope with a blue and green stamp in the upper right-hand corner, she pulled out the expected check, signed and all ready to go, except for the amount. Bulma set it aside to do later. She would drop it off at the post office tomorrow. She then pulled out the last item in the envelope. It was a folded letter. She opened it and read the large print that she instantly identified as her father's unique handwriting style.

It was just a regular letter. She sighed and laid back on her bed, on top of the tan, satin sheets. She put her hands behind her head and looked at the perfectly white ceiling. She hadn't seen her parents in a while. She even, dare she say it aloud, missed them from time to time. The previous aspect of it had seemed like lots of fun to her, but not so much anymore. She missed them, even after it had been like a dream to have them not be around for weeks at a time.

She wondered what her father would have to say about her new life of high school and drama and _boys_. He wouldn't like the latter part of it, which was for sure. Her mother would think it wonderful that Bulma finally found herself a boyfriend, and after such a short time in school as well. Her mother would take it as an accomplishment for her. But her parents, despite their rarely agreeing views, always managed to decide on something about every single issue that Bulma came up with. She wondered which side would win when her parents met Vegeta.

And it was inevitable that they would finally have to meet him in due time. She doubted that they would learn about his secrets, but that was a whole other matter entirely. And after Vegeta had saved her and it was put all over the news, maybe her parents had found out already. She wasn't the one to make that decision, and she certainly didn't want to be.

"We have all day. You want to do something?" Vegeta asked from the doorway, and Bulma sat up. She sighed when she saw his hands filled with canned food and his mouth filled so much, she was surprised that it didn't spill out.

"Like what?" she asked, turning away for fear of throwing up and embarrassing herself. Chewed food wasn't her favorite thing to look at.

"I don't know, woman. You tell me. That's why I asked you if _you_ wanted to do something. If I wanted to know if you wanted to do something that only I want to do, I wouldn't have even bothered to ask."

"True enough," Bulma said, putting a finger to her head to show that she was thinking his question over, lest he get impatient and leave, or worse, like attack her. Her face turned red at the thought.

"Why am I not surprised?" he said, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his muscular chest. Bulma's face flushed even more. "I'm not objecting if that's your suggestion. I'm just asking if there was anything _else_ on your mind besides sex."

"I was not suggesting that!" Bulma yelled. "Maybe you should stop trying to figure out what I'm thinking by how my body reacts. A human's body reacts like an animal's. And an animal's basic instinct is to survive and, heaven forbid it, _reproduce_. But that is what separates humans from other animals. We can think. _I_ can think. I'm not just some animal, Vegeta. So please stop treating me like one. If my body acts one way, like just now, it's not always because I want to have sex. Understand? If you want to stay in my house for a single second longer, you're going to have to get that fact through that thick skull of yours and into your brain."

"So," he said, taking a step forward, "Then what _did_ it mean, just then?" He came up to her and stood beside the bed, placing his eyes on her. Bulma could clearly see the lust. It made her blood boil. "Like right now. Your beautiful body is reacting to me."

"Because you're standing right in front of me and I just came back from a vacation where I had sex with you more times than I could count," she said defiantly, throwing her head back and crossing her arms. Vegeta chuckled. She reminded him of a certain Saiyan Prince at some times.

"And does that bother you?"

"No. It was my choice. I don't regret it, Vegeta. Do you have a point to make?" she straightened her back to seem a little bit taller, but she was still sitting down while Vegeta was standing. It didn't make much of a difference anyway.

"In fact, I do, woman. My point is that humans, as well as Saiyans, _are_ animals. The fact that we can think in a more complex manner doesn't change what we truly are. And if what you said is true, then it's your instincts telling you to react to me, and it's your thoughts that are preventing you from actually, _physically_ , doing so?"

"I guess so. But what does that have to do with anything? I said that all already, or weren't you listening to me?"

"Maybe I was listening a little _too_ closely."

"What?"

"That hardly seems fair to your instincts, woman. Your thoughts preventing them from having any fun. You're like your instincts' parent, restricting it from doing the things it wants to do. I, on the other hand, feel compelled to trust in my instincts and do what they tell me to do. It's kept me alive in many situations, so I feel I owe my instincts a surprise or two."

"I highly doubt that it's your instincts talking right now," Bulma sarcastically giggled, looking towards his midsection. Vegeta never removed his gaze from her face as she let her baby blue eyes do the wandering for her.

"Maybe you should give your instincts a few surprises as well," he whispered, bending down to reach the same low height as her.

Bulma instantly stood and looked down at his expressionless expression. It made her a little curious as to what he could be thinking, but not curious enough. And she could guess if she really needed to.

"I think that all boys are like you, Vegeta. Different species or not, men and boys always listen to their dicks and call it instinct. You're no different." She smiled and raked the fingers of her left hand through his spiky hair before walking towards the door.

"Are you _declining_ my generous offer?" he asked, clearly not believing it and thinking she was about to turn around and pounce on him.

"You asked me what I wanted to do, right?" she questioned, turning to look at him, his knees still bent on the floor so that he was eye level with a couple feet off her bed. "Well, I just came up with something. I want to go visit Chichi and Goku, and I want you to come with me. Maybe we can all play a game together or something. Saiyans vs. Earthlings. What do you think?"

Vegeta's frown and vigorous eyes disappeared as he stood up to his full height and smirked. "I think you're about to have the worst day of your life, woman."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

When Bulma knocked on the door for the fifth time in the past couple minutes, it finally opened. Bulma guessed that they were just busy or something. For fear of her own imagination, she decided to stop thinking of reasons for it immediately after it crossed her mind. She knew that Vegeta's most recent threat to knock down the door must have rushed them along a bit, too.

"Hey guys," Goku said, flipping back his jet-black, wild hair. His breathing suggested that he had raced to open the door. "What's up? We weren't expecting you."

"I can see that," Vegeta snorted, folding his arms across his chest. Bulma had to refrain from elbowing him in the gut for his unintended meaning.

"Vegeta and I wanted to stop by and see if you two wanted to play a game or something," Bulma said with a smile, beating her imagination into a bloody pulp before it could get out of hand. She had to remember that Goku was a Saiyan as much as Vegeta, and the both of them could feel what her body did, whether it be bad or good. It was going to take her a thousand lifetimes to be able to get used to that, she mentally concluded before continuing. "What I was thinking of was a sport. I don't know if you would want to go out to do something like bowling, or if you wanted to stay here and do something else."

"Way to just barge in on us there," Chichi said, putting her thick, sleek black hair into a tight ponytail on the top of her head. "Could you call next time so we know that you're coming? And what's all this talk about playing a game or going out for bowling. I never heard that we were doing that. Nobody told me anything."

"That's because we haven't told you yet," Bulma said, a bit exasperated. "We just came over to ask. If it's going to be a bother, then just tell us to go play somewhere else. That's what friends do, right?" She placed her hands on her hips and waited a few moments for a response.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Chichi said, clearly defeated at her own game, "Of course you can stay here, and I'm sure we can all think of some game we can play." She rolled her eyes before adding, "But if you ever barge over here without letting us know first again, I promise, I'm going to kill you, Bulma Briefs."

"I have Vegeta to protect me," she joked, pointing her thumb to the proud Saiyan Prince standing at her left side.

"And I have Goku to keep Vegeta at bay while I keep my promise."

"I don't think so, raven," Vegeta said, unable to hide a miniscule part of his disbelief of what Chichi had just claimed. He folded his arms over his thick-muscled chest and narrowed his eyes. Everyone else just laughed.

"What?" Goku chuckled, "You don't think I could hold you off for a minute or two while our girls had their fun?"

"If by fun, you mean _fighting_ , then no, Kakarot. Probably not." Vegeta held his head up and tossed it to the side as if to say that even if Goku tried to reply, he wouldn't be heard by the Prince. "My mate wouldn't be able to handle an actual fight. And although I hate to say it, your raven has more ability when it comes to defending her weak little self."

Chichi smiled, taking it as a compliment, but Bulma frowned and placed her heated glare on him. Goku chuckled at his casual use of the word "mate" when referring to Bulma. Certain things had really changed about him, and it was all because of that aquamarine-haired girl. Sometimes he wondered just what she could have done to change him like that. In such a dramatic way.

It was clearly something that only Vegeta could see because Chichi was his world. But every man, Earthling or Saiyan, had a heart. And even the arrogant ones like Vegeta could be taken over by it. Goku knew that if he ever brought up such delicate subject with his life partner, he would be torn to shreds, mentally as well as physically. So he didn't think about it. He knew exactly what it was and it looked like nothing in the world could turn back the tides.

"Goku, honey?" Chichi said, "How about you and Vegeta go set up the volleyball net in the backyard? And while you two do that, Bulma and I can make something in the kitchen. How does that sound?"

At the mention of food, Goku licked his lips and hurriedly raced back inside and down into the basement to grab the packaged net. Vegeta rolled his eyes and headed for the backyard, but Bulma knew that the idea of food was enticing to all Saiyans, especially the two that she knew personally. Vegeta could hide his anticipation from anyone but her.

"Come on, Bulma," Chichi said, "I don't have a lot of food because I wasn't expecting company…," she rolled her eyes as she spun back towards the inside of her house and put one foot in front of the other.

"Do you want me to apologize again?" Bulma breathed, following after her.

"No, no," she replied, but Bulma could tell by the black-haired girl's tone that she was smiling at the prospect. Bulma guessed that Chichi was probably picturing her on all fours, kissing the ground at her feet and the land she walked upon.

Bulma just rolled her eyes and failed to hide her smile.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"The net's all set up, Chi," Goku said, knocking on the sliding glass door next to the kitchen table. The sudden thumping noise made Bulma jump a little. "When's the food going to be ready?"

"Oh, Goku. Can't you think about anything but food? We're going to play first and to make it fair, it will be you and me versus Bulma and Vegeta. Whichever team wins gets first dibs on the food, so you'd better make me proud, sweetheart!"

"I'm pretty sure Vegeta's arrogance alone beats both of you," Bulma snickered.

"I'm right here, woman," the spiky-haired Saiyan said, crossing his arms and walking up to stand next to Goku at the sliding glass door. Bulma smirked at him to say that he was meant to hear it, earning herself a grunt of disapproval. "And even if I wasn't, I would still be able to hear that screech of a voice."

"No insults because I'm making fun of you," Bulma said, waggling a finger in his direction.

"Says who?" he snarled mock-playfully.

"Says me," Chichi interrupted, "My house, my rules, Vegeta. You know that. You lived here long enough to know what I'll kick you out for."

"But now he's living with his _mate_ ," Goku snickered holding both hands over his mouth to stop from laughing.

"Will you give it a rest, Kakarot!" Vegeta roared and Bulma guessed that Goku had been bugging him about it beforehand, probably when they were setting up the net in the yard. Although, she did like the fact that he was referring to her as something other than "woman" to the people around her. When he spoke directly to her, "woman" was all she got, so it was nice to hear a change in her given name sometimes.

"See?" Bulma giggled, "How can you and Goku hope to defeat _that_ , Chichi?"

"You, too, woman!" he bellowed through the glass door. His breath made a part of the glass fog up and Goku drew a lopsided heart in it with his finger. "Don't you _dare_ ," were the last words that came out of Vegeta's mouth before Goku added the predictable B and V to the inside of the poorly drawn heart.


	28. A New Challenge

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: A New Challenge**

Goku grabbed a glass of lemonade that Chichi had so kindly added three extra tablespoons of sugar to. Bulma feared for all their safeties with that much sugar in the already hyper Saiyan. Chichi insisted that it was fine because he liked a lot of sugar in his lemonade, but Bulma wasn't so sure and even Vegeta looked a bit skeptical of Chichi's bold claim.

"Goku and I versus you and Vegeta. Whoever wins gets first dibs on the food. That's the rule and there's no changing it. Everybody understand?" Chichi called, and everyone nodded. Bulma found that Vegeta was being very responsive to everyone around him today. She wondered how responsive he would be to her later in the day…

Just looking at him made her blood boil and erupt inside her outer layer of skin, and she was sure that he knew that. Maybe he even anticipated the next moment they were alone as much as she did. Bulma didn't doubt it. But spending time with Goku and Chichi was fun as well, and she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to beat them in a game of volleyball with Vegeta on her team. The activity was too good to be true. Sex was one thing. Vegeta would never mind that activity, but playing around was a totally different thing. And a part of her knew that he would have never agreed to play with them unless she was playing as well.

She couldn't remember the last time she and Vegeta hadn't been together. She knew that seeing too much of one person wasn't always a good thing, but ever since he rescued her from her fall on the board walk, she couldn't remember a moment outside of the hotel's tiny bathroom that she hadn't been closely watched by the gorgeous Saiyan Prince. She wondered if he planned it that way, or if it was just a coincidence. She highly doubted it was the latter. Nothing was a coincidence when Vegeta was involved.

Goku kicked the volleyball towards the net and it landed on the opposite court. Apparently, either Goku or Vegeta had marked the out-of-bounds lines with orange field paint.

The sun was high in the sky, so there were no worries about which side would blind the other team's players. And there was no wind to make excuses about. Bulma groaned. How was she going to keep up with two Saiyans and Chichi, who seemed pretty athletic for a teenage girl who didn't play any sports? She was going to bring her team down. Vegeta was going to have to pick up all the slack that she involuntarily brought along with her every time she entered a game involving a ball, net or both. She would gladly admit that she sucked at sports, but she didn't currently have the option to leave, so she didn't see the point other than publicly announcing to Vegeta that they were going to lose and he wouldn't get first dibs on the food that she and Chichi had made a few minutes before. The only thing that would accomplish was making her dream boy a very angry prince and, following that, probably a crappy game of volleyball for all four of them.

"Watch out, Kakarot," Vegeta smirked, walking over to the opposite court and picking up the volleyball, "Your little raven is going to be the reason why I get to eat all your food."

"I'm enjoying the fact that you think so highly of yourself right now," Goku replied with a mirrored smirk, "Because that will only make your losing even better for me as I watch you sitting all by yourself without any food to fill your growling stomach. And trust me, if I get first dibs, there won't be anything _left_ by the time you get your chance."

"We'll see, Kakarot…"

As Bulma got in her position and turned around, Chichi and Goku stood across from them. Chichi across from her, and Goku, naturally, across from Vegeta. Bulma was glad that it wasn't Earthlings versus Saiyans, as she had presumed beforehand. It would have been a massacre of her species' pride, as well as a bashing to her own vanity.

"Let's get this party started already," Chichi called, "Come on, Vegeta. Volley for serve."

"You don't have to rush me," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle, "It's just a game, isn't it?"

Goku frowned and glared at the other Saiyan, "Yeah. Just a game for you. I take it very seriously when food's on the line."

"I think we all know that," Bulma cut in, "Can we just play, please? This is supposed to be a friendly competition, not a Saiyan war field."

"She's right, you know," Chichi added, "So volley for serve, Vegeta."

The Saiyan Prince sneered and raised his hand. He threw the ball up with his left and slammed it into the palm of his right. It skimmed over the top of the net, hit Chichi's house, down at the bottom of the hill behind them, and bounced off, rolling for a moment before coming to a stop in the light green grass.

"You can't spike on a serve," Goku said, clearly amused that he was playing against someone who didn't know that apparently well-known rule.

"And volleying for the serve to start the game is the most uncomplicated part of volleyball. But it has to go over the net twice for each team for it to be qualified as a true volley for serve," Chichi added smugly, and then turned her head to smile at Bulma, "And what was that? We can't beat you because _he's_ on your team. Gimme a break."

"Watch yourself, raven," Vegeta warned, volleying the ball again, this time hitting it over the net with nothing more than human strength. Bulma found it amusing how his Saiyan abilities almost never came into play for most of the time he spent on this planet. There weren't any fights, and Earth was, for the most part, a peaceful planet, during the life of a high school student. And that counted for Saiyan high school students as well. She almost felt bad for the two of them.

Chichi wacked the ball with an open palm, causing it to make a loud slapping noise, and travel a little more than a foot forward. Goku dove and hit it over the net, causing it to head straight for Bulma. She put her hands up, but before she could bump it, Vegeta appeared in front of her and hit it straight to Chichi again. She slapped it, hitting it another foot forward, but Goku was still down on the ground from his dive, unable to assist her puny hit.

Vegeta let out a flamboyant laugh towards the both of them and Chichi snarled like Bulma had never heard or seen before.

"Your raven is turning into quite the animal, Kakarot. That's quite sexy," Vegeta said seductively. Goku rolled his eyes as Chichi pretended to barf. Bulma tilted her head at him.

"You've never called _me_ sexy like that," she said, attempting to sound hurt or offended. It didn't work. Vegeta gave her a mock-dumbfounded glare and turned back just in time to find Goku chucking the volleyball at full speed towards his spiky-haired head.

"Don't use Chichi as a disadvantage. That's cheating," Goku said, earning himself a punch from his girlfriend. Bulma guessed that he barely felt it, though.

"Then why would you try and hit the ball over by Bulma when I'm standing right here. Just because our mates suck at this game doesn't mean that…" He slowly came to a halt and Goku smiled at him.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked slyly.

"We don't suck!" Bulma and Chichi guffawed in unison.

"We could take you on any day!" Chichi growled.

"That's a coincidence," Goku said to Vegeta.

"Because that's _exactly_ what we were thinking," the Saiyan Prince finished. "Boys versus girls. Saiyans versus Earthlings. Sounds like fun, doesn't it, woman? Raven?"

"Sure!" Chichi yelled.

"Chichi…" Bulma said, holding out a worried hand, "I don't think that this is such a—"

"Let's go, Vegeta!" the glossy-haired teen yelped, running over to his place on the opposite side of the court. Vegeta smirked and swaggered over to what had used to be her place on the same side of the court as Goku. They shared a discerning glance that made Bulma want to leave before she got hurt. "Come on, Bulma," Chichi shouted, "We can take them down."

"First place's prize is first dibs on the food," Goku called, throwing the volleyball up into the air, and serving it as a human would do.

It first headed for Chichi, but when Bulma was about to look away in horror, she heard the familiar slap and saw the ball actually making it over the net by at least a couple inches. She hung her head when Chichi gripped her hand in pain after wards.

Goku bumped the ball up and Bulma ran forward, hitting it back over in Vegeta's direction.

"Set it!" Goku called and Bulma began to back off. This wasn't going to be pretty.

Vegeta bumped the ball almost one hundred feet into the air. Goku flew up and slammed the back of his heel into the ball. Bulma felt as if the world was experiencing one large earthquake. A perfect ten-point-oh on the Rector Scale.

Chichi screamed as Goku used instant transmission to reach her and pull her away just in time. Vegeta grabbed Bulma and stood, his back to the implosion on the ground, as his form of protection.

The grass and dirt didn't even move as the volleyball created a thin, deep hole.

" _My yard_!" Chichi cried from back near the woods. She came running over and glanced inside the smoking hole in the ground, Goku on her heels. "How dare you!" she screeched, whirling on him, " _Goku_!"

The Saiyan instantly flew up into the air, avoiding all possible physical interactions with his angry girlfriend.

"Get down here, right now!" she furiously called, but Goku only smiled apologetically and shook his head in decline of her generous offer. Seeing as she couldn't do anything, she whirled on Vegeta. "Don't even think about flying away," she snarled, beginning to walk towards the two of them. Bulma yelped and tried to make herself as small as possible behind Vegeta.

"Too late, raven," he smirked, "But I don't think I will, anyway." He turned his back to her and hugged Bulma tightly to him, pressing his hips forward, into hers. He ran his face through her hair and purred; it was a deep noise from the abyss in the bottom of his throat. Bulma shivered and instantly felt her body react to his, guessing that he had been intending on such a thing. Heat erupted from between her legs and her face went beat-red with embarrassment. She put her hands up and pushed against his chest, telling him she wanted him to stop.

"Vegeta, cut it out," Goku said, landing next to them. "I can smell your mating instincts coming in from a mile away with that. You're making me want to vomit, so stop."

"Your gross, Vegeta," Chichi said, walking back towards her house. Goku rolled his eyes and followed after her.

When they were both back in the house, after Goku had grabbed four platefuls of food from the outside table, Vegeta let go of Bulma and she gasped for air.

"What the hell was that all about?" she yelped.

"It got her away, didn't it?" he shrugged.

"That was uncalled-for, Vegeta, and if you ever do it again—"

"What?" he cut in, "What could you possibly do to me, woman? You have no power over me whatsoever."

"Sex," Bulma said sternly, crossing her arms and letting a small smirk slip through.

"Wrong. That is s a power I have over you, woman. Not the other way around."

"I completely disagree with that," she replied haughtily. "But we can discuss it _later_."

"I'm so scared," he mocked.

"You live in my house," she added, "I could kick you out."

"I believe we went through this already and I know you could never honestly do it and stick to it without faltering."

Bulma wanted to say that she was preventing him from going back to his planet, but she knew that she would regret it later if she dared it. But knowing that she had some power over him, even if she didn't share the knowledge of it with him, was enough. She shrugged.

"Fine, you win, but sex is _my_ power, not yours. If you'd like me to prove it to you, then I will gladly do so."

"I would love for you to prove it to me," he replied seductively, leaning in to whisper by her ear, his familiarly cool breath on her ear and nape of her neck, "We can go do it right now. I can show you the other powers I have over you as well, if you like."

"Whenever you're ready," Bulma said, proudly tossing her head back.

"Good," he said, his smile getting threateningly wider, "Then you can walk home. I'll meet you there." And then he was running down the hill, towards the driveway. He managed to grab a plate full of food along the way.

By the time Bulma's brain understood what was happening, she jumped at the sound of Vegeta's motorcycle engine starting up. She began to race down the hill after him in a doomed-to-fail attempt to stop him, but he peeled out of the driveway, kicking up rocks as he drove off down the road.

Chichi and Goku came running outside as Bulma glared at the black helmet Vegeta had purposefully left behind.

"What happened?" Chichi asked, hearing Vegeta leave and seeing Bulma standing all alone in the driveway.

"He wants to prove that he has more power over me than I have over him," she snarled, kicking the helmet across the driveway with so much force, she was surprised that neither the helmet nor her foot had cracked in the process.

"Ooh," Goku said, pulling his head back as if he'd just received a nasty insult, "Maybe you should stay here tonight, Bulma. Power isn't a topic you want to be involved in with Vegeta. It makes him act stupid and even more arrogant than usual."

"There's a problem with that, Goku, sweetie," Chichi said, placing a hand over Goku's shoulder. "If Bulma stays here, he'll take it as her playing along and trying to prove that she has more power. And if I know Vegeta, and I _know_ Vegeta, then it'll only make him worse. The best thing you can do, Bulma, is let us give you a ride home in fifteen minutes or so, and you can just tell him that you're not interested in playing along with his little game. Trust me, it's for the best."

"Has he done this before?" Bulma asked stupidly and Goku nodded.

"With me, but that's usually when he wants to fight, to see who has the most physical power, him or I."

"And they ruin my yard _every_ _freaking_ _time_!" Chichi said, grating her teeth against each other in an attempt to show all her bottled-up anger to the two of them.

"Alright," Bulma agreed, "If you really think it's that bad."

"Absolutely, Bulma," Chichi said, "Just let me get changed and I'll drive you home."

"You know," Bulma said, shaking her head, "I think I'll walk. There's just enough daylight to get me home, and if Vegeta' thinks he already won the game, he won't want to play it anymore, right? I won't have to convince him of anything that way."

"I guess so. Just be careful."

"Sure. And thanks for playing with us. Sorry if our arrival wasn't exactly called-for."

"No problem."

"I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow in school then," Bulma called, waving as she walked towards her kicked helmet on the other side of the driveway. Chichi and Goku waved before walking back inside their home. Bulma picked up the helmet and looked at it. She growled and chucked it farther into the woods before heading towards the road to make her way home.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma came to a halt at the end of her driveway. She could see the familiar motorcycle parked, the kickstand down, and the bedroom light on through the window in the upstairs portion of the house. What was he doing upstairs… in her bedroom. The thought made many pleasant and unpleasant images enter her mind. She quickly pushed the unpleasant ones aside and slowly pushed the pleasant ones away as well.

Her fingertips were frozen and her heart was shivering against the inside of her rib cage. Her spring jacket wasn't enough to keep her upper body warm, and her jeans weren't as thick as she would have liked them to be. She had to let her hair down during her walk when the wind began picking up. And now it was sunset, the breeze was cold and fierce, and she had a Saiyan Prince in her house who probably thought of himself as royalty, more than any other time in his entire life.

She heard Chichi and Goku's words in the back of her mind, but she would be damned if she walked up to him and told him he had more power over her, letting him win after what she had just gone through. She would be damned to hell before she said such a thing. She was going to show him what she was made of… and then she was going to make him pay.

She pulled out her keys as she approached the back door to her house, but it was already unlocked. She put her keys away with a huff and walked inside. She closed both doors behind her and walked into the kitchen. She took her shoes off as she welcomed the warm air to flow all around her. She knew it was going to take more than a little warm air to make her stop shivering, but that would have to wait until later. She dropped her purse on the wooden floor and shrugged out of her spring jacket, shivering again as she growled her way up the stairs. The only light that had been on was no longer on, but she could see a small light flickering.

As she came closer to her bedroom, she noticed the light as candles, making her even angrier. How much nerve did Vegeta have? He wasn't really going to try and seduce her after making her walk home in the cold. She knew that, had it been any other guy in the entire universe, the man would already be dead.

But what she saw when she stepped in the doorway made her heart stop for a split second. Vegeta was sexily lounging on her bed, his shirt stripped off and nothing on but his white boxers. The candlelight and the orange glow of the sunset behind her closed curtains gave the room a heated hue of light. He turned on his side and smirked at her, placing his head in his hand, his elbow resting lazily on her pillow. Bulma noticed that the sheets had been changed and there was a slight smell of dried leaves that she guessed came from the candles in the room. Bulma had a bit of trouble keeping her cool.

"What would you do if I told you that my bedroom was flammable?" she asked, frowning at him.

"I'd say that we should move to a different room." He turned onto his back and stretched out. Bulma closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have to force herself not to look at him and his flawless body that he was currently flashing around at her. God, she hated him right now.

"Well, my bedroom _isn't_ flammable, but I'd say that you'd better move to a different room anyway," she replied angrily, daring to open her eyes again. Vegeta smirked at her.

"Or what?" he asked, making her blood boil. She couldn't stand him like this anymore.

"Get _out_!" Bulma cried, picking up the nearest lit candle and chucking it at him.

He caught it with ease, preventing anything from catching fire, but the expression on his face revealed that he hadn't been expecting her to throw a fire-lit candle at his face.

"Temper, temper," he chuckled, waggling a finger in her direction, "You'll come to me eventually, woman. I can smell your lust."

"Well, believe it or not, I can smell _yours_ as well," she commented, purposefully throwing his midsection a disgusted glare, "and it's making me want to barf. Get out of my room, Vegeta. _Now_."

He looked at her disbelievingly and Bulma smiled proudly on the inside, showing nothing but her determination to her dream boy on the outside.

This was a battle she couldn't lose.


	29. The Beginning of Trouble

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Beginning of Trouble**

Like any other boy, Bulma knew, what he wanted was sex. The only problem was that, this time, it was a competition, and nothing less. If she gave him what he so desired of her, then she would lose. She wasn't sure exactly how to win, but she was going to do it nonetheless. Vegeta was going down.

"Get out of my room, Vegeta," Bulma growled, "and take your damned candles with you. What are you playing at anyway? Is this your way of showing me that you have more power? By annoying me to death?"

"The fact that you're playing along only proves that you know exactly what I'm doing, woman," he replied with a smirk. Bulma couldn't believe him.

"I really have no clue what you're trying to say. Why don't you just spit it out already so you can go away?" she asked headedly. "You make me walk home in the cold and when I get here after freezing my ass off, you're up in my room, practically begging for me to forgive you and give you whatever you want, which I can only guess is sex. You are the most predictable person I've ever met. I used to think that you were one of a kind, but I guess I was wrong. You're just as annoying and stupid as everybody else!"

"Well, excuse me, little Miss I'm-So-Perfect. I'd completely forgotten that you're so touchy."

" _Touchy_?! Vegeta, you drove off without me on an autumn night. It's below forty degrees outside. I can barely feel my toes and my fingers feel like they are going to fall off. I'm not just going to laugh like it was some joke, because I didn't think it was very funny. And all this…"

"All _what_ , woman?" he snarled. Apparently having her reprimand him put him in a bad mood, even if what he did was wrong and he knew it.

"What do you _want_ me to say about what you're doing right now? Personally, I'm quite disgusted with you. You can't say you have more power over me, and then prove it like this. This doesn't prove anything, and you've made me upset. Therefore, I want you to leave. Go downstairs and take your stupid candles with you, like I told you before. And do it quickly, before I get _angry_ , Vegeta."

He didn't budge.

"What do you want from me?!" Bulma snapped. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Same to you," he muttered, sitting up and relaxing against the back of the bedframe.

"Then why the hell are you still here? Go back to your couch on the bottom floor before I kick you out of my house altogether," she said angrily, glaring chaos at him, proving that she rightfully blamed him for everything that had gone wrong over the past hour or so. Looking at the arrogant jerk's mug was only making her angrier. She wanted to scream, but she held her tongue.

Vegeta rolled off the bed and headed for the stairs. Bulma threw her gaze down to the carpet as he walked by, his woodsy musk and personal scent mixture floating in the air around her face. She shut her eyes until she didn't hear his footsteps on the stairs anymore. She looked up and let out a held breath. She turned around and shut her door slowly, quietly. He hadn't taken the damned candles with him, so Bulma flicked her light switch on and blew out the tiny flames. She placed them in the bathroom to cool off and then went back to her bedroom, shutting the door quickly this time. She traded the big light with her lamp on her nightstand, changing into her pajamas and getting into bed.

She wondered what happened to their power game in such a short amount of time. But Vegeta had to know that you don't just leave a girl to walk home in the freezing cold weather. He had to know that she would be pissed if he did that to her. Maybe something was wrong with him. What could have been going through his head?

She thought about the near future. Tomorrow was Monday, so she would have to deal with the crowd. What would happen now that Vegeta's secret had been revealed. This whole time, it felt like nothing was wrong, but Bulma lived in a little secluded place with her secluded friends. She didn't know about the outside world just yet. The entire world might already know about the Saiyans and she wouldn't have a clue about it.

Her cell phone rang from downstairs, in her purse, but she didn't bother to go and get it. She curled up under the covers at the second ring and wondered who could be calling at a time like this. She glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and almost laughed. It wasn't even eight-thirty yet and she was already in bed. She hadn't even showered or brushed her teeth and already she was falling asleep. She shivered and shoved her frozen hands under her armpits for warmth.

When her cell stopped ringing in the middle of the fifth ring, she growled to herself. Her phone always stopped directly after the sixth ring, so she could only guess that Vegeta had picked it up. Maybe it was Chichi, asking if she had made it home safely yet. Or maybe it was Goku, asking if she wanted him to kill Vegeta for her. She mentally replied with a severe nod.

She perked her ears up to try and listen to what Vegeta was saying, but his voice was too low for her to even begin to try and hear the actual conversation.

A couple minutes later, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She flipped over, placing her back to the doorway and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She listened to her door open, and the footsteps get closer to her bed until she could feel his presence on her back. She could feel his eyes on the back of her head as well.

"Your parents are coming here," he said simply.

Bulma instantly flipped over, forgetting about her sleeping act. He probably knew she wasn't asleep anyway, so it didn't really matter. " _What!?_ "

"Apparently, they don't like the idea of me being here while you're asleep, so they'll be here tomorrow afternoon, probably before you get back from school."

"That was my mother, on the phone?" she asked.

"Your male parent, actually."

"That was my _dad_? Vegeta, why would you pick up the phone if it said it was my _dad_ calling? Don't you know anything about people after living here for however many years?"

"People? Woman, I am a person," he replied with a smirk. "And I know that male parents are unnaturally protective of female offspring, but what do I have to fear? You are my mate and I am stronger than a simple forty year-old Earthling male." He paused, but then added, "I also know that, generally, the male Earthling mate assumes the protective role of the male parent. It's almost like the male parent passes on the role of a guardian for the female. I find it interesting, so I wanted to tell your father that I would be taking on that role." He was being sarcastic, but Bulma knew that smirk on his face. That evil smirk that old her that he wasn't giving away everything that he knew.

"What did you say to my father, Vegeta?" Bulma warned.

"Nothing really. He asked who I was and where you were, so I told him who I was and that you were going to bed. Then he asked if I was the boy from the news, and I told him that "boy" wasn't the proper description, so it couldn't have been me—"

"Vegeta! Wait a second, what did you tell him when he asked who you were? You didn't really tell him…"

"I told him that I'm Vegeta Ouji, prince of the Saiyan race on Planet Vegeta."

"My god! My dad thinks that I have a flying nutcase in my house. No wonder he's rushing all the way down here. Please tell me my mother isn't coming with him."

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't know, woman. What do you want from me?"

"What else did he ask?"

"Well, I guess he just assumed that I had to be the "boy" that he had seen on the television, so I didn't argue against his own stupid thoughts out of not wanting to obtain any form of brain damage. Other than that, he threatened me not to touch you and to be long gone by the time he arrived. And then he hung up. I didn't have much time to reply to anything he said." He shrugged again.

The house phone rang and Bulma grabbed the one on her nightstand, quickly pressing it to her ear and hitting the call button.

"Dad? Dad, don't hang up! Everything's fine, I promise," she said quickly.

"Bulma, who's that man with you? Why did he pick up your cell phone? Where were you? What is he doing in your house? Has he touched you?"

"Dad, _please_ ," Bulma said, flipping Vegeta the bird when he chuckled and mouthed "touched?" like it was the funniest word in the world. "Vegeta was just leaving," she said, earning herself a skeptical look from her dream boy, as if to tell her that he wasn't going _anywhere_. "I was getting ready for bed and I left my phone downstairs, so he picked it up for me."

"Who is he? Bulma, who is that man?" he father shouted into the phone.

"He's just a friend from school. I told you, he's just leaving. He drove me home and—"

"He drove you home?! Bulma, then why is he in your _house_? Put him on the phone! You'd better put him on right now, Bulma Briefs! I'll have a word or two with _you_ when I get there!"

"No, Dad. You don't have to come. Really, everything's fine. There's nothing wrong."

"Ha! I'll believe _that_ when I see it! You haven't gotten into any relationships with this boy, have you, Bulma? You haven't let him touch you, right Bulma? Don't let him—"

Bulma slammed the phone shut and watched as Vegeta rolled over laughing, leaning against the side of her wall for physical support. Bulma glared at him.

"You're going to give him a heart attack, Vegeta. What were you _thinking_?"

The house phone rang again and Vegeta snatched it first.

"Vegeta, _stop_ it!"

"Hello?" he said with a smirk, into the mouth of the phone. "Ms. Brief's residence. How may I help you?"

Bulma winced as she listened to her father screaming from the other end of the line.

"It's for you," he chuckled, handing Bulma the phone. She snatched it from him with a glare that could have killed any normal person, and held it away from her ear until the screaming died out.

"Dad, I'm so sorry—"

"Bulma, I want him out. I want him out of your house right now. You tell that bastard to get out of your house and you never let him back in. Do you understand me, young lady? _Do you_?"

"Yes, Dad. I'll kick him out right now," she replied, earning herself another skeptical look from her dream boy.

"Is he out yet?" her father growled into the phone. "If I'm going to need the shotgun, then you're going to have to let me know, sweetheart. Is he gone yet? Is he out of your house now?"

Vegeta looked down at the carpet and then sat, his legs spread out. Bulma just noticed that he still hadn't put any clothes on, other than his boxers.

"Yeah, Dad. He's gone."

"Good. You mother and I saw you on the news just a few minutes ago, and we saw you get rescued by that boy that could fly! Are you alright? We were so worried about you. We called right away."

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine. If it wasn't for Vegeta, I wouldn't be alive right now. He saved my life."

"Vegeta? I thought that young man said that he wasn't the one on the news."

"No, no, he was. I think he just got a little offended because you called him a boy. Apparently, he's very touchy about that," she added, tossing him a sarcastic expression. He stretched out on her carpet and closed his eyes, placing his hands behind his head for support as a makeshift pillow. He had no response for her.

"Well… It's better that he's out of your house anyway. You're not even out of high school. The last thing you need is involvement with boys."

"Sure, Dad."

"And what was with the theatrics when you fell?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose that the cops came eventually, right? Why weren't we called? Why didn't _you_ call us, even? And why did that boy, Vegeta did you say? Why did he put on such a big act about it? I mean, everyone knows that people can't _fly_. Did he just want to impress you? Well, you can tell him that _I'll_ be the one doing the impressing if he _ever_ touches you again."

Vegeta sat up and looked at her, tilting his head to one side a bit.

"Thanks, Dad," Bulma replied, "Well, I guess I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Don't think this means your mother and I aren't still coming down there. We want to make sure you're really all right. And I'm going to make sure that that boy leaves you alone. We'll be there around tomorrow afternoon, okay, sweetheart?"

"But, Dad. I'm fine, really. You don't need to com all the way down here. You have work and business down there. it isn't worth the price in gas alone. Really…"

"Nope. We're coming. We'll see you tomorrow. And don't let that boy back into your house, especially at night. You know what I told you. All boys want at your age is sex, and you have your whole life ahead of you. You can't get knocked u—"

"Dad!"

He laughed on the phone, "I know. I know. We'll see you tomorrow, then. Okay?"

"'Kay. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Bulma chucked her phone across the room at the wall. Vegeta quickly caught it and walked over to her, placing it in its rightful place back on the nightstand.

"Way to go," she mumbled to him as he sat down next to her. Instantly, the feeling that it was just the two of them washed over her. They were all alone, with no one there but each other. She wondered if he was thinking the same exact thing.

She shivered, and Vegeta wrapped one arm around her, pulling her head onto his shoulder.

"I thought you were supposed to kick me out, woman," he said, mocking her father. Bulma snorted at him, but was too tired and cold to respond to him stupid comments.

"Do it yourself," she muttered, closing her eyes and burying her whole body into him for warmth.

Vegeta leaned back and brought Bulma with him. Their heads collided with the pillow and Bulma flipped over, pressing her fingertips onto his bare chest. He jumped ever so slightly and Bulma couldn't help but sleepily laugh at him.

"You can't be that tired," he whispered, his cool breath on her ear.

"My father was right. What a surprise," she said.

"Don't make me prove it," he playfully warned. "It's not even nine at night and thinking I won't is a mistake you won't forget for a long time."

Bulma closed her eyes and ignored him, half hoping he would keep his word. And as he flipped over on top of her, she kept her eyes closed and smiled a little. She felt his lips brush hers and his tongue gently swiped over her bottom lip. He chuckled and held her nose closed. When she parted her lips to breath, he slipped his tongue inside, exploring the area.

Bulma slapped his hand away from her nose and hesitantly kissed him back with no more force than a feather floating in the air. But as his hands roamed over her sides and arms and his warmth began to consume her, she pressed her body harder against him. She felt like it was one of those situations where a girl's excuse was that it had been a cold night. Fortunately, she didn't really need an excuse.

She let his warm hands explore her body until her chill was gone and her body was back to its normal temperature. It had taken a good ten minutes of him holding her, but she was no longer cold, so she felt it was worth her stalling any prolonged actions on her part.

Bulma flipped the two of them over and slid down the bed, instantly and insistently tugging on his boxers. He lifted his middle so she could pull them off and toss them to the floor with ease. Urgency calling her name, she took him in her mouth and without warning, raked her tongue up and down his shaft. Vegeta grunted and let out a deep moan at her demanding nature, but didn't make any signs that he didn't like it. In fact, his sudden grunts only told her that he lusted for her and desired more of whatever she was willing to give him.

She continued sucking and licking him until his breathing was loud and irregular. His member was hard and hot, feeling fervent in her mouth. Vegeta insistently moaned in the same time as the fast rhythm of her sucking. She tugged on him, gently massaging him with her teeth. He let out a low cry that pushed Bulma over the edge. She rocked back and forth, gripping his tight legs as she got into the erotic nature of what she was doing to him. She pushed her tongue against him and ran her hands up to his washboard stomach, pushing on him to feel every line of his clenching and unclenching muscles.

Bulma jumped when his palm collided with the back of her head, gently and unsteadily brushing his fingers through her aquamarine hair. His hands shook and Bulma knew that he was holding back his Saiyan strength again so as not to bring harm to her by accident. He let out a shriek like she had never heard from him before as her tongue hit a foreign spot that she instantly recognized as sensitive. She couldn't help but smile as she mentally congratulated herself on her irreplaceable find. It was a chance like no other. She prodded her tongue on his newfound sensitive area, earning herself another shriek. His body began to vibrate, shaking the bed like an underground volcano. And he was the fire, erupting heat at a tremendous rate.

Both his hands gripped the mattress and Bulma heard a loud rip. She didn't bother to look up at what the noise came from, and frankly, she couldn't have cared any less. She just continued massaging his sensitive area with her tongue, sucking on him as he simultaneously panted and cried out.

One of his fists collided with the wall behind his head, shaking the entire room as he let out another loud shriek for her. Bulma lifted her head up, looking into his glazed eyes for a moment before grabbing him again with her left hand.

"You didn't think I would just stop there, did you?" she asked, trying to make herself sound sexy and seductive. She didn't get the chance to see whether or not Vegeta had taken her tone of voice as a joke or not because he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up to kiss her passionately, holding back nothing. She felt like a kitten, the way he held her, as if she was so breakable, so fragile, so easily taken away. His body was still shaking because her grip on him was never parted as he brought her up for a kiss, slipping his tongue around the inside of her mouth insistently. She gave him a little tug and he breathed into her.

"This is exactly what your father told you not to do, woman," Vegeta panted.

Bulma broke their vehement kiss and sat up on the right side of him, letting go of his member. "Way to ruin the moment," she said, frowning at him. But he wasn't paying attention to her words. He looked her up and down and then breathed.

"Your clothes are still on," he said, almost as if he had been expecting otherwise. Bulma couldn't help but let a smile creep its way back up to her lips.

"That's because my father told me not to let you touch me," she said, and then smirked and added, "He said nothing about me not being able to touch _you_."

Vegeta's breathing sped up without her even having to move a muscle. Bulma liked the control. She wondered if this meant she had the most power. Not caring as much as she thought she would have, she pulled off her shirt and pants, exposing her black panties and pink bra to him. His eyes nearly bulged and his lips parted at the sight of her. This was much better, she thought. This time was nothing like at the hotel, where she had been caught off guard by her dream boy and his long awaited claim of caring for her the way she cared for him. That had been pure bliss. She wanted this to be nothing different.

Leaning down, she grabbed his member with her left hand once again. She listened to Vegeta's breathing as she closed her eyes. She listened as it sped up ever so slightly as she gave him a dainty tug or two. His rigid breaths came heavier and deeper as she worked on him, doing her very best to make sure he was the happiest boy on the planet, and maybe even in the entire universe, at that moment in time. If anything, he was definitely the happiest Saiyan.

She slowly brought her right hand down and positioned her two first fingers near that newfound sensitive spot that she so proudly found on her own. She noticed how his breathing was now anxious as he watched her, knowing the single-minded feeling she was soon going to inflict on him.

When he was good and ready again, even hotter and harder than the last time, if that was even possible, Bulma slowly prodded her fingers against his sensitive area, earning herself a quieter form of that delicious shriek, driving her to give him even more. He involuntarily threw his head back with another, louder shriek. If anyone had heard the zealous cry of the Saiyan Prince, they might have guessed that he was in the most pain of his life, but Bulma knew he was far from it.

She watched the thick muscles in his stomach as they tightened and loosened. His fists clenched and unclenched against the mattress and the recently changed sheets as she pressed harder against him, using all her fingers to move as quickly and efficiently as she could manage, relishing each and every intoxicating sound that exited his mouth.

When she began to slow down, Bulma saw the room spin in a blur as she was tossed up into the air, the only cute underwear she owned was torn to ribbons, and Vegeta literally threw himself on top of her as her back collided with the soft mattress below.

He locked their lips together for a short moment in time before sliding into her, not bothering to use any of his time for anticipation. He just got straight to work, running her body like a machine that had just been refilled with fuel. If anything, Bulma didn't know, but she assumed that his body might have had a little _too_ much fuel. All she knew for sure was that it was going to be a long night.

She guessed it was just pure luck that she wasn't tired anymore…


	30. Maron Strikes Back

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Maron Strikes Back**

Bulma slowly opened her eyes and frowned at a stinging sensation in the muscles on her legs. Her shoulders throbbed a bit and her fingers needed to be oiled before she could stretch them out along with the rest of her aching body. She sat up, only to have her hair fall in front of her face in a giant heap. Knots like clubs surrounded her face like tumbleweed and she could almost feel the bags under her eyes. She didn't even want to begin to guess how much sleep she had gotten throughout the night. Vegeta hadn't seemed to be satisfied until she couldn't move anymore. She had certainly managed to bring out the beast in him last night, but her tender muscles told her that it hadn't been a very smart thing to do in the end of it all.

The sound of the shower running had woken her up, and her eyes felt heavy. Looking over at the time, she noticed that she had less than a half an hour to get ready for school and leave before the bell for first period rang. She didn't want to look the part that everyone was most likely expecting her to play.

School was _not_ going to be fun.

Bulma sat up and hit something sharp with her bare bottom, jumping and trying not to land on it again. She rolled off the bed and looked at where the sharp object had been. She reached over and patted her hand down until she found it hiding under the sheets, but when she pulled out a cracked piece of wood, she slowly and unsurely looked up at her bedframe.

It was a bloodbath of wood chips. Vegeta, in all his passion, must have turned her bed to rubble, she presumed heatedly. She couldn't blame him, but if her parents were coming in less than twelve hours, the last thing she needed was for her father to see damage to her bed.

Taking a longer look about her room, Bulma gasped. Her fluffy pillow was thrown against the far wall, beside her closet, torn to ribbons. Not to mention that feathers littered the carpet and even stuck to the walls. Her sheets were ripped into strips and were disseminated over the floor all the way to the stairs and the bathroom. Bulma guessed that Vegeta may have dragged them along with him when he went to shower before she had woken up without realizing it.

The thought of Vegeta made her hot all over again. She wondered if she would ever get used to him in that way. She secretly hoped not. It kept life with him more fun that way. She didn't want to tire of him, and she doubted she ever would.

She shook her head, getting her brain straight as her nervousness took over. Her room couldn't look like this when her parents arrived, and they were going to get here before she came home from school, so all she had was the time to get ready for the day. There just wasn't enough time to do everything. She ran over to her vanity and grabbed her brush, raking it through her hair and violently and inevitably ripping many strands out. She grabbed new underwear, noticing her ruined panties and bra laying on the floor next to the nightstand, and pulled them on in a hurry, almost knocking herself over in the process. She grabbed a new bra as she picked up the torn sheets and ruined clothing, tossing them into the trash bin. She did her best to gather up all the feathers from her pillow, but many were left behind.

She growled. With all his self-proclaimed prowess and ability, all Vegeta was doing was taking a damned shower. Also known as _not helping_ , she thought, going over a few things he could do when he finally came out of the bathroom as she looked at her cracked wooden bedframe. Nearly half of it was cracked completely off. She didn't think her parents had memorized what the bed looked like when they bought it for her new house. Hopefully, they weren't going to come in her bedroom at all.

And then she noticed the smell. If anything was going to give her and Vegeta away, that was going to do it. She raced to the window and yanked it open. It was freezing outside, so she would have to close it before they left. She hoped the odor would be gone by then.

Bulma dropped to the floor with a loud sigh, giving herself a mental break. She glanced over at the clock again. She had just under twenty-five minutes to get herself ready for school and get the house ready for her parents' unasked for appearance. Why did they have to come at a time like this? What an annoyance, she thought bitterly, standing up and making her way downstairs. Her stomach was begging her for food and she hoped Vegeta hadn't eaten her entire stash of food from the last time she had gone shopping.

Coming around the corner to the kitchen, she happily found an opened box of cereal. Grabbing a bowl and spoon, she ate the cereal dry and raced back upstairs. She had about fifteen minutes remaining. She grabbed her school bag and dug inside for her folder. She pulled it out and was relieved to find that she hadn't forgotten to do any of her homework. She wondered how much schoolwork she had missed after being gone for yet another day. She was beginning to miss too many days of school. She would have to stop taking days off for a while. She mentally prepared herself for no breaks and probably lots of work. _Ugh_.

She heard the shower shut off and the door opened not a minute later. He swaggered into her bedroom with only a towel on, making Bulma's heart skip a beat or two. He glanced over at her and she guessed it was because he had felt her reaction to seeing him after last night. He didn't seem to mind or even be affected by it, because he grabbed his clothes, folded neatly in the corner of the room, and his boxers, hanging off the end of the bed. Bulma, not wanting to chance being distracted with so little time, looked away as he removed his towel and put on his clothes. She scrunched her nose at the thought of putting on dirty clothes after a shower. The Saiyan Prince didn't seem to mind. In fact, his mind seemed to be elsewhere anyway. She wondered why and where it could have gone to.

"What are we going to do about my bed?" she asked, turning back around when she knew that he was finished and fully clothed.

"What needs to be done?" he asked, looking directly at the cracked wood as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

"Well, it can't be like that when my parents get here," Bulma said, a bit exasperated at his naivety on the subject.

"Why not?" he asked, and Bulma placed her hands on her hips. He smirked. "Why don't you try putting some clothes on before you start reprimanding me? I don't think I could take you seriously like this, woman."

Bulma looked down at herself and realized that she still only had her bra and panties on. She couldn't stop the blush from coming to her cheeks as she walked over to her closet and blew a few pillow feathers off a pair of jeans before shoving them on, almost falling over again. She grabbed a simple dark blue V-neck t-shirt and an autumn jacket before turning back around and placing her hands on her hips again.

"That's better," Vegeta smirked, clearly emphasizing the fact that he still wasn't going to take her seriously, clothes or not. She mentally frowned at herself because she had played right into it, just doing what he asked because of who he was and what he meant to her.

"Really, though. Can't you get rid of this part of the bed or something? You always say how strong you are, so why don't you rip this thing off and throw it in the trash outside?"

Vegeta shrugged and walked over to the cracked wooden bedframe. He grabbed it with one hand and bent it forward. Bulma winced as she heard it crack under the pressure of his strength and pop off. He pulled it up and headed for the stairs.

When he was out the door with her ruined bedframe, Bulma collapsed on the carpet again. She glanced over at the clock. She had only five minutes left. She guessed that her room would just have to do. There was still a part of the bedframe attached by a few immovable steel bolts, but the little strip of wood was hardly visible with the mattress blocking the view of it.

Walking over to the linen closet out in the hallway, she decided that she would use her remaining five minutes to change her sheets. If anything, her parents, especially her father, wouldn't be too happy with missing sheets on the bed.

When she was finished and Vegeta was walking back up the stairs to her bedroom, Bulma tied the string on her garbage bag full of sheets, feathers, pillows and pieces of splintered wood. She picked it up by the string and swung it at his face.

"Take that out, too," she commanded, earning herself a snort as he turned around, heading back down the stairs. Bulma grabbed her bag and purse and followed after him, shutting the lights as they went along.

When they made it to the back door, Bulma locked it and closed it behind her. Vegeta threw the bag or junk into the larger trash bin in the garage, along with the wooden bedframe, and threw a tarp over the top of it, hiding it from view for when Bulma's parents passed through the garage to get to the back door to the house.

"Thanks," Bulma said, closing the door as they exited the house and garage. Bulma shivered as she was hit by the cold breeze. "Oh, damn," she said, remembering her bedroom window and whipping around, key already in hand. "Vegeta, fly up there and shut my window will you?" she asked, pushing him forward.

"I'm not your bitch, woman," he said defiantly, folding his arms and tossing his head back.

"That's nice. Could you go do it now, please?"

He gave her another snort and snatched the key out of her hand, entering her house once again. It took him no more than ten seconds to complete the task and make it back downstairs, locking the door and tossing her back the key. She shoved it down into the depths of her purse and headed for her car, wishing she had remembered to start it beforehand. She mentally shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it now anyway.

"Are you coming with me?" she asked, turning to the arrogant Saiyan.

"Definitely not," he responded sourly, giving her dingy white car a pitiful look before walking towards his motorcycle. Bulma shivered just imagining the wind he was going to be hitting himself with when he went over the speed limit down her tiny road. There was no way she would be caught dead on that thing when the weather was like this, or worse. How she missed summers and traveling to warmer places in the winters. Her parents would always look for work in warm regions of the world when the cold seasons came around. Unfortunately, she wasn't going anywhere for a while.

Bulma pulled open her door with extra force because of the frost and bent down into the driver's seat, starting the engine. She tossed her bags across to the other side of the car, into the passenger's seat, following after Vegeta as he sped out of her driveway as if he was competing in the Indy 500.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma entered the front double doors of Orange Star High and tried not to look at the ground so much. She had no idea where Vegeta was. He had lost her on the ride to the school and she didn't see his motorcycle at first glance of the parking lot. Maybe he was with Goku and Chichi, because she hadn't managed to find them either.

Walking down the hallways to first period, even before the bell rang, was the beginning of what she knew was going to be a long day. Boys hooted and hollered at her and girls gave her sour looks and rolled their eyes as they tossed their heads back like they were something else.

Bulma tried to find someone she knew, even just a little, but had no luck. She was just happy she hadn't bumped into Maron or Yamcha yet. After all, she couldn't be in hell without the devil's king and queen of evil and stupidity there alongside her. So, for now, she just had to deal with the painless glances that she received from the wannabes and henchmen.

"Hey, Bulma! Over here!" someone called, and Bulma turned around, daringly lifting her eyes to meet the gaze of whoever had called out her name. She stood frozen when she saw who it had been.

Sharpner came racing over, his hand flailing around in the air in greeting. Bulma wanted nothing more than to go hide in a corner or at least her face. She would have even settled for the increasing flush on her cheeks and probably the bridge of her nose as well.

"Bulma, babe, how was your vacation?" he said, suddenly placing an arm around her shoulders and guiding her through the hallways of the school. Not many people were there before the bell rang, but the few who were stopped what they were doing to stare at the two of them. Bulma could only imagine the thoughts that were going through their heads. She could almost hear the gossip spreading like a raging wildfire throughout the school. Texting and calling everyone, everywhere. Pictures of Sharpner with his arm around her being sent to every phone in the building. Bulma just wanted to scream at the obnoxious teen.

"Sharpner, get off me," she said, trying her best not to growl. It didn't work out as well as she had hoped it would, but the blonde didn't budge as they continued walking down the hallway together. Bulma finally built up some nerve and placed her arms against his side, shoving him away. Then, she turned on him. "What's your problem?" she yelled.

"Huh? What are you taking about? I just wanted to know how your weekend was. I mean, I watched the news yesterday morning and I was shocked. But who was that mysterious guy that saved you? I want to know his name. Could you get me an autograph or something? And how did he save you. I mean, people can't really fly, so what's the deal with all the news shows broadcasting the same freaking story every second of every day?"

Bulma was taken aback at the sheer fact that Sharpner hadn't recognized Vegeta in the video that the younger boy at the boardwalk took of her rescue, and then sold to the news-broadcasting companies. For a moment, she believed that everything was going to be okay because no one noticed Vegeta on the news, but her hopes were soon crushed like a dried leaf underfoot.

"You idiot," an orange haired girl that Bulma remembered was called Angela said, bumping into Sharpner's side in a more-than-playful manner. "It was Vegeta, the little blue-haired girl's boyfriend. You should know that, Sharpy. You're smarter than that."

"Yeah, whatever," Sharpner said, shoving his hands into his too-tight jean pockets and shrugging his shoulders upward with a smirk plastered on his face. "I'll admit that Vegeta can be cool sometimes, but I'll jump off a building before I believe that he can fly. And I bet Bulma wishes that her savior could have been me, don't you babe?" he asked, leaning forward and puckering her lips.

"Not quite, pretty-boy," a familiarly masculine voice called from behind Sharpner. Bulma smiled at hearing his voice without even having to see his beautiful face. She thought that maybe he had ditched her or something, but regretted doubting him instantly when she heard him speak in her defense. "But I wouldn't mind taking you up on that proposal you just made. Seeing you jump off a building would just about make my day."

"Very funny, smartass," Sharpner laugh-mocked, removing his hands from his pockets and placing them on his hips. Vegeta rolled his eyes as he walked past him, placing a hand on Bulma's upper arm and spinning her around, walking her forward, towards his locker at the end of the long hallway. Bulma eagerly obliged. There was nothing more that she wanted to do right then, other than getting as far away from Sharpner and Angela as quickly as possible. She didn't even want to be here. The more time that passed, the more people would forget all about her being the center of gossip among Orange Star High's student body. The sooner time passed, the better for her.

"Today is going to be hell, isn't it?" she softly asked, looking over her shoulder as her dream boy pushed her along through the nearly empty hallway. A few people they passed looked as if they had something they really wanted to say, and Bulma was glad when nothing came out of their mouths.

"No," he replied easily, "I think it will be annoying as hell, but in general, hell won't even begin to compare, woman. Especially if Maron is in a good mood this morning."

"Don't forget Yamcha," she added as he removed his hand from the small of her back to fold his thick-muscled arms over his chest and walk next to her as they approached his locker.

"It's not the males I'm worried about, woman. I can easily get rid of them. But females on this putrid planet are protected by some idiotic meaning that's beyond me. If a female can't defend herself, then she deserves to be smacked around. As for Yamcha and any other losers like Sharpner, I can frighten them to the point where they piss in their pants. And if any of them actually have the balls to stand up to a Saiyan, then I would be thrilled to kick their asses."

"That doesn't exactly solve our problem for the rest of today, but I don't think that girls on Earth are the same as the girls on your planet. By saying what you said, you're telling me that if I happen to cross a man that I can't defend myself against, then he should beat me up for it. That's kind of stupid, if you think about it."

"Wrong again, woman. A female who can attract a male that can protect her from other males deserves to live, on my planet. If the female is a weakling, then it's better that they don't reproduce, weakening the entire species for the next generation. Therefore, if you encountered a male that you couldn't defend yourself against, and he tried to bring harm to you, the simple fact that you're an Earthling and you managed to attract a Saiyan male to you has made you one of the two most valuable females on the planet."

"One of the two?"

"The raven happens to be the other most valuable Earthling female, but I blame Kakarot's poor mating instincts for that horrifying misconception—"

" _Vegeta_!" an excited squeal shouted from down the hallway as the Saiyan Prince opened his locker and grabbed his notebook for English class. "Vegeta, my sweet heroic boy!"

Bulma whipped around and was fully prepared to smack the oncoming aqua-haired look-alike straight across the face when the bell rang throughout the school, initiating the start of the school day, as well as the rules of the building. Her anger stayed with her, pulsing in her head, giving Bulma enticing images of blood and pain. One of these days, Maron was going to be taken by surprise, she concluded.

She was taken aback by her sudden protectiveness of Vegeta. She had never felt like that because of Maron before. Well, not that strongly at least. Maybe Vegeta was her protector against harm and physical pain, but she was his protector against sluts and whores like the one standing right in front of her.

"Out of my way, _Bluma_!" Maron shouted sneeringly, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward at the waist to shove her heavily made-up nose in Bulma's angrily flushed face. "I've come to see my new boyfriend, so _back off_. You're clearly _not…_ _his…_ _TYPE_!"

Bulma guessed that her expression must have been menacing, because even Vegeta looked at her with a stunned appearance on his face. She gladly stuck with it and whirled on Maron.

"Listen, you fucking _bitch_!" she screamed, letting all her fury loose in the intense volume of her screeching voice. "Get the _fuck_ out of here before I beat the living shit out of you! If you want to mess with someone, you come to _me_ , whore! I'll _gladly_ take you on! But if you _ever_ hit on _my_ boyfriend again, so help me God, I will _kill you_!"

Maron stood speechless for a second before haughtily responding, her hands still placed on her wide, curvy hips. Bulma noticed sparkly red nail polish on her fingernails. "So the dog with the loud bark has a little bite, too, huh? How hilarious. You're such a _joke_ , Briefs. You really think you can say that to me without facing some kind of repercussion? Because if you do, then you're sadly mistaken. I may be the most beautiful person in this _fucking_ school, but that doesn't mean I can't fight back. And trust me, now you've just unleashed something that I've wanted to show you for a _very_ long time."

"You've got me shaking in my boots, asshole. And if _you're_ the top for beauty in this school, then maybe whoever made the scale should hand the job over to someone who isn't blind."

"You're comebacks are as corny as your outfit. You're the lowest of the low in this place. You think that by dating a major hot-shot like Vegeta, you can just walk all over everyone and do whatever you want around here like it's your palace or something? What kind of an idiot are you? I mean, I've seen some _serious_ idiots in my days, but none compare to _your_ level of brain-dead. And I don't know why you even bother trying to get together with _my_ man, Vegeta. You're too much of the loser-type. And since you probably don't know what that means since you were baby-schooled by your _momma_ and _poppy_ , I'll tell you. It means that you want a man who exists only in fairy tales. You think that Vegeta is going to stay with you and love you and take care of you until the day you grow old and die. Well, let me tell you something, dreamer-bitch, he's not going to do something like that for a loser like you. Unlike me, you expect him to bow on his knees for you and love you like there are no other women in the universe, but like every other boy on the planet, all he wants is sex. And if he hasn't gotten it out of you already, then he'll probably leave pretty fucking soon. But if the rumors are true, and you two have been going at it every night since he rescued your sorry-little ass, then maybe he won't dump you so early into your _development_. But when he does, he's going to come crawling to me, because he knows that _I'm_ the right kind of girl for him. I can give him ultimate pleasure and unrequited passion, if he so desires it, night after sleepless night. And I will _never_ ask him to stay with me. I will never ask him to love me or show me that he cares about my well-being. Trust me when I say that _I_ am every boy's dream."

Bulma stood silent and realized that Vegeta had gone off to first period at some point during Maron's rant. She guessed that he either didn't want to be late or he didn't want to get involved in a girl argument. The bell rang, clearly stating that Bulma was going to be late to her first period class, and she turned back to Maron, who was already walking away, Yamcha faithfully in tow at her heels. But when Bulma thought that their argument was over, Maron paused in the middle of the hallway, causing a blockage for the other late students, rushing around in a hurry. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and her head turned back.

Bulma and Maron locked eyes for a split second, and Maron mouthed her final words before turning back around and walking off majestically. Bulma's jaw dropped when she realized the words.

"Vegeta is no exception."


	31. A Game of Chance

**Chapter Thirty: A Game of Chance**

Bulma rolled her eyes as she headed off for first period. If Maron really thought so low of Vegeta to actually believe that he was just like every other boy in the world, then she wasn't even worth a single thought. But boy, did that bitch piss her off.

If Maron thought she could just say things like that about not only her, but Vegeta as well, and get away with it, then she was even stupider than she looked. And that was going a little too far, even for an idiot like Maron.

She trudged along down the hallway, dragging her feet. Why rush when she was already late? There was no realistic point. Mr. Piccolo would have the same thing to say to her whether she was five minutes late or five seconds. And her class was outside, in one of the trailers, because of the fire that had occurred not too long ago. It seemed like forever ago to her.

She mentally laughed at the fact that Vegeta had run away from her and Maron when they started to argue. And after saying how amazing he is all the time. Bulma guessed that even Saiyan males knew their limits when it came to females, no matter which species the girl came from.

When she reached the exit to the building, she contemplated whether or not she should just skip class. It was probably half over anyway. But she decided against it. The last thing she needed was a phone call home when her parents were actually going to be there to know what had happened. She had received numerous phone calls about her absences and even her detention so long ago, in the beginning of the school year. Luckily, she had deleted those messages as soon as she got them, so there were no worries about her parents finding out about them.

Ever since her school life started, it seemed as if Bulma had been turning into a completely different person. She avoided her parents, she no longer told them everything, and she found herself wanting t be around her friends more than her own family. She guessed that it was probably normal, because it wasn't like she didn't love her parents anymore. They meant the world to her, and they always would, school or not. Maybe she was just changing into the person she was meant to be for the rest of her life. Maron was teaching her how to defend herself against the idiot population of the world, Chichi and Goku were teaching her about friendship, and Vegeta… well, he was showing her everything else.

Vegeta certainly had turned her life upside-down. He was like a dream come true. She felt like she was on cloud nine whenever he was around. She knew that love was the only explanations for the weird things she felt about him. And she was crazy about him, which she could have never pictured herself feeling for another before she met him. He was simply the best thing that ever happened to her life.

"And just where have you been?" Mr. Piccolo asked, and Bulma looked up to find that she had just entered the trailer classroom without noticing it. Her face turned a bright shade of red and she hung her head low as she walked over to her seat next to Vegeta, in the back left corner of the room. She wasn't looking, but she could feel all the heavy gazes resting on her like lasers. She hated the feeling.

"Nowhere, Mr. Piccolo," she replied softly, trying her best to sound apologetic. "I'm sorry. My locker got jammed and I had to find a janitor to help me open it."

"Forgive me for not believing you, Miss Briefs, but I believe that janitors carry around hall passes in case things like that happen and a student can be excused from tardiness if they require assistance. But I see that you have no hall pass to show me, Miss Briefs. So, once again, forgive me for not believing you. I will write you up. Two more lates to my class and I will make sure that you have a nice after-school detention with me. And if you are late even one more time, then it's a phone call home to your parents. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Bulma replied, lowering her head. If she couldn't get in trouble for it, she would have had a few other things to say to him as well. After Maron's stupid little rant to her only a few minutes ago, her tolerance level was at an all-time low. She was in no mood to mess around with anyone, and she hoped Vegeta could feel her anger. His bullshit was out of the question as well, and things would go much smoother for the both of them if he didn't purposefully try to dance on her nerves or push any delicate buttons without warning or permission. And asking for her permission wouldn't make things go much better, either.

English class passed by like a lead brick falling on Bulma's head. It was painfully slow and there wasn't a single moment during the entire period that she didn't wish for it to just end already. But when the bell finally rang and she closed her notebook, Mr. Piccolo put down his piece of chalk and dismissed the class to second period.

Bulma watched as boyfriends and girlfriends hugged or kissed as they switched classes. Bulma glanced over at Vegeta hopefully, but he was already headed off in the opposite direction. She sighed and made her way to Human Behavior. Maybe she could learn a thing or two about arrogant-ass Saiyans. It was the least she could hope for, anyway.

"Bulma! Over here!" Chichi's familiar voice chimed from her habitual seat in the front left portion of the trailer-classroom. She rightfully assumed that the damage from the fire still hadn't been fixed while the four of them were on their makeshift vacation.

"Thanks for saving my seat," Bulma said with a smile, "Again."

"No problem. Seeing as no one takes their assigned seats seriously in these trailer dumps. You never know when someone is going to snatch your spot. You're just lucky that I get here first. My trailer-classroom is right next door, so we get first dibs on seats. This period is the best time to sit where we want, too, because our teacher never teaches." Chichi giggled and set her notebook on her table, just to make herself look like a teacher's pet. Bulma rolled her eyes at the glossy-haired girl, setting her bags down under her table desk and taking a seat in her uncomfortable metal chair.

"So…" Bulma said after a good and long fifteen minutes of silence between the two of them. She had no topic for a conversation starter and it was painfully obvious to the both of them.

"Yeah… How're things going with you and Vegeta?" Chichi asked.

"Is that really all you can come up with? You ask me the same question every time we're in this class together. You're such a gossip-monger, Chichi."

"Well, that clearly means that you don't want to talk about it, which means that there's something going on between you two. Are you going to share or am I going to have to talk it out of you?"

"Well," Bulma began, knowing exactly where to start with her problem. "It's not something between Vegeta and me. It's another problem."

"Which is…?"

"My parents are coming over today because Vegeta decided to pick up my cell phone and introduce himself to my father."

"Ooh," Chichi gasped, "They're coming over today? Geez, that must suck. You have less than twelve hours to think about how to introduce your father to _the_ daddy's worst nightmare. Good luck. I can be no help there. Neither can Goku. You're on your own, girl."

"Oh, that made me feel a hell of a lot better," Bulma yelped, her face turning pink when people glanced her way for the loud interruption from their personal conversations. Bulma wanted to tell them all to get a life, but she willfully restrained herself. "Thanks for all your wonderful support," she whispered loudly.

"Hey, I was just stating a fact. If you want advice, I can give you that. I just meant that I don't _know_ your parents, so it isn't like I can talk to them about how much I trust Vegeta, or some other bullshit like that!"

"Don't get snippy. I'm the one with the problem here. Not you."

"Yeah, yeah. Do you want my advice or not?"

"Anything will probably help."

"The first thing you can do is kick Vegeta out and tell your parents that he's just a good friend who was messing around with your phone."

"I don't think my father's going to fall for that one. Plus, it _sounds_ corny. A monkey could tell that I'm lying with that lame excuse. And if my dad thinks I'm lying to protect Vegeta, then he'll hunt him down. And I honestly don't want them staying longer than they have to. Plus, when Vegeta spoke with him on the phone, he told my father that I was going to bed while he was in the house with me, that he's the guy who saved me from plummeting to my death, which both my parents happened to see on the news right before they called me, and he told them that he was the prince of an alien race known as the Saiyans! What is God's name do you think my dad's going to believe? That he was just a friend, or that he needs to find this nutcase and threaten him or something else that could be defined as stupid? Oh, and I forgot to mention that he already threatened Vegeta and that arrogant son-of-a-bitch laughed in my father's face and hung up on him!"

"Wow… I, uh… Don't know how to help you there, Bulma…"

"And then Vegeta ruined my bed last night and I woke up late, so I barely had enough time to make it look acceptable because my parents are going to get there while I'm still here. So, now do you see what I have to look forward to?! This has got to be the worst day of my life!"

"Come on, Bulma," Chichi said reassuringly. "Everything will work out with your parents. Vegeta is like every other boy that every girl in the world brings home to show their mom and dad. They may not like him at first, but if you make it very clear that you and Vegeta are going to stick together no matter what, then they'll just have to learn to get used to him. Complaints or not, this is going to work out fine in the end. I promise."

"You really don't get it. It's not just my parents, Chichi. That by itself couldn't make this the worst day of my life. This morning, I walked into school after Vegeta ditched me so that he could go over the speed limit down my tiny road, and Sharpner starts to hit on me. Then Angela came over and just made everything worse. And then, when Vegeta came and we got away from those two idiots, and I thought that everything was going to be okay, Maron came over and started to try and flirt with Vegeta as if I'm not standing _right there_. So, I don't know what came over me, but I flipped out on her at some point when she thought she was winning, and now she promised that she would unleash her full wrath on me. It's not like Maron isn't someone I can't handle, but I'm really not in the mood for her crap. Now or _ever._ "

"I know what you mean. And I'm sorry about your day."

"Oh, thanks," Bulma replied unenthusiastically.

"It's not the end of the world. Today will be over sooner than you think."

"I just wish everyone would stop giving me looks today. That would make this day pass by like a breeze. But, no. Of course, everyone wants to get a good look at me as if they'll see something other than Bulma Briefs. As if they'll unlock some life-long secret that they've been searching for. As if they can burn me alive with their gazes alone. I just get so sick and tired of them staring and glaring _all_ the time, _every_ _freaking_ _day_. It's so predictable and annoying at the same time!"

And before Bulma could continue her rant, the bell rang. She noticed how Chichi didn't even try to get up from her seat before her. Bulma mentally sighed at her attempt to not get her angry. Maybe she shouldn't have yelled at Chichi so much. It wasn't her fault. Nothing about today was.

She mentally apologized to her friend for her behavior, and then walked out of the trailer classroom without another word passing between the two of them.

She made her way back to the school building for Math, the most boring class of her day.

While she was there, the only thing she could think about was what was going to happen between her father and Vegeta. Neither of them was known for being pushed around, and both of them were known to her for being arrogant and always getting their way in any situation and every argument that came their way. The battle was going to be a fierce one, and Bulma feared being asked to choose a side. She could never side against her father, and going against Vegeta was like telling him to go away, which she feared he might do if she didn't support him. After all, he stayed with her, on this planet, not completing his assignment to destroy all Earthlings, because he took a liking to her, and she responded with the same feelings for him. if he felt that she no longer desired him the way he claimed to desire her… the outcome made her knees shake. She didn't know what he would do.

So, she knew she couldn't choose a side, which was like telling both Vegeta and her father that she didn't agree with either of them. She was going to have to stand alone, and it made shivers run up her spine. Her father was going to be very upset and angry with her, and Vegeta's usual amusement was going to be short-lived. She didn't know what to expect from him after that. All she really wanted to do was crawl into a corner and hide until they sorted this problem out by themselves.

But she knew the problem with that option. The problem was that she was the center of the argument. Her father wouldn't be so furious with Vegeta if it wasn't his daughter that he was currently living with, and Vegeta probably wouldn't give a damn if the situation didn't involve a problem between him and her. And her father's anger undoubtedly got his blood boiling for action and a fight he knew he was bound to win.

And that was another problem. How could Bulma face this knowing that her father was going to lose. She loved her father and protected him throughout all of her childhood. So what if she was growing up? He still meant the world to her and she wanted him to accept Vegeta like she did so that she wouldn't have to watch him take such a heavy loss. She could almost feel her own anticipated heartbreak. And she didn't look forward to it at all. In fact, she dreaded that moment with all her heart and soul.

The bell rang again, abruptly ending her thoughts on the subject. She grabbed her books and, ignoring the stares for the umpteenth time during that day, made her way down the hallway to Chemistry, glad that she could sit next to Vegeta again, but unhappy because she would have to face Maron for an entire half hour of note-taking, which was going to be no fun at all.

But when she got to the classroom and the bell rang for the period to begin, Maron was nowhere in sight. Yamcha was missing from his seat as well. Vegeta didn't look like he was in the mood to talk, so Bulma sat quietly and took notes like the perfect student that she was if she actually bothered to try every now and again.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma had an odd feeling when the day ended and she learned that Maron had just walked out of school with Yamcha, around first or second period. She couldn't help but believe that it had something to do with their argument before the first bell of the school day rang throughout the building. And she didn't like the thoughts that went along with it. That aqua-haired wanna-be couldn't really be planning something to get back at her. She wasn't smart enough, especially if she took a day off of school to do it. And with Yamcha gone as well, they probably got distracted and acted like slutty whores all day, Bulma concluded thoughtfully. There was no way in hell that Maron was going to make a plan to get back at her. It just wasn't realistic, she thought. And she believed it. Besides, she had enough to worry about without those idiots on her mind.

As she got into her small white car, she watched Vegeta speed out of the parking lot in front of her. Bulma even peeled out after him. She wasn't going to let him beat her home when both her parents were sitting there waiting for the two of them.

Throughout the day, her one and only plan was to tell her father like it was. Vegeta was her boyfriend and she cared about him. She couldn't say the "L" word or he would flip out, so her plan was to just tell her parents that he was her first boyfriend and she was a teenager with the simple case of curiosity, and she was smart, so she wasn't going to get pregnant or anything like that… Well, maybe she would say it in different words than that. It was a little too straightforward for her liking, especially if she had to talk about sex in front of her father. It was a flat-out no-go.

She pulled into her driveway with Vegeta only a minute ahead of her, considering the fact that he cut corners and disobeyed stop signs along the way, swerving through cars and passing on the right in tight spaces and between trees off the side of the road. Her car may have been small, but it wasn't small enough to do the things that a motorcycle wielded by Vegeta could do. She doubted that even a motorcycle in her incapable hands could do most of the things he could do.

But when she stepped out of her car and walked over to the back door to her house, Vegeta came outside to meet her halfway.

"Your parents aren't here," he said, somewhat intrigued by what he had just revealed to her, as if he hadn't actually comprehended the information until he spoke it aloud.

"What?" Bulma asked, not quite comprehending it herself. But then, joy washed over her. "Are they not coming? Did they leave a message on the house phone?"

"No," he replied, walking back into the house, Bulma in tow. "They didn't leave any messages. I can't even feel them nearby. They just haven't come."

"Do you think that they forgot?" Bulma asked, unable to conceal her smile. "Do you think they aren't coming at all? Or will they just be late? We have to fix the house up. Do we have to make dinner? I could just order pizza if you want."

"I don't think they're coming." Vegeta's tone was unsure, but it caused another thought to enter Bulma's mind.

"Wait. Are they hurt? Did they get into a car accident? Did something happen to them?"

"Why are you asking me? How would I know?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that you should know. I just got worried, that's all. What if they didn't come because they got hurt… or worse?"

"Why don't you just call them and find out?" Vegeta asked, as if a four year old could have figured it out with ease. Bulma rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone, trying not to make herself look like a fumbling idiot as she rushed. She swiftly dialed her mother's number, not ready to face her father again yet, and hit send. On the third ring, her mother picked up.

"Oh, sweetie!" she said quickly, "I should have called! I'm so sorry! I hope you weren't worrying about us! Your father and I are fine. We're just running a little late is all. No worries. We'll be there close to sunset, alright? Sorry again to worry you. Is everything okay over there? Did you just get back from school? How's the car holding up? You know your father and I never wanted to buy you that piece of junk. You should have taken one of the new cars that the dealer was going to give us for two thousand dollars off. You know you should have taken the offer, sweetheart. That tiny white dingy doesn't suit you like a mustang would have… or at least a jeep, like your father recommended for you."

"Oh, mom," Bulma sighed, happy that everything was okay, "Well, I'm glad you're safe. And I guess I'll see you around dinner time. Did you want anything in particular?"

She heard her father call pizza from the background and her mother told him to focus on his driving. Bulma laughed.

"Pizza it is," her mother giggled through the phone line and Bulma nodded.

"Sure. It's easy enough. And there's barely a mess to clean up when everyone's finished."

"Alright, Bulma, dear. We'll see you in a few hours, okay?"

"Sure, Mom. See ya."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Bulma closed her phone and turned back to Vegeta. "So," she began, "We have about four hours until sunset. Do you want to do anything in particular?"

Vegeta thought for a moment and then looked at her, "Not really, woman."

"How about we play a game?"

"A challenge?" Vegeta asked with a devilish smirk. "Is there a prize involved in this game of yours?"

"I… guess so? What do you want?"

"The winner gets to choose what to do next and the other must oblige… without a single complaint." He smirked again. Bulma sneered at him playfully. Yeah, like she didn't know what he would choose if he won their game.

"Then the game should be simple so that the prize can seem better. Something involving… _chance_."

"Because you can't beat me at anything involving skill or intelligence," Vegeta added and Bulma snickered maliciously in response. He would be dead if she didn't like him so much.

"How about a game of war?" she asked, heading inside to grab a deck of cards.

"War has nothing to do with chance, woman," Vegeta said, genuinely confused, "And it has everything to do with skill and intelligence. How does that benefit you in any way… unless my prize is also something you desire?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Not quite," Bulma replied, laying down her deck of cards onto the kitchen table, "And I have my own prize in mind." Vegeta lifted an eyebrow and Bulma split the deck and explained the rules within a two minute span of time. Thankfully, Vegeta was a quick learner.

And as Bulma's pile of cards slowly got bigger and Vegeta's slowly became smaller and smaller, his growls became more eminent. And when only one card remained in his pile, he flipped it over to discover a jack of spades. Bulma prayed to her ceiling and flipped her next card over with her eyes closed. When she heard Vegeta let out a curse to his set of cards for betraying him, Bulma smiled and opened her eyes. She had played a king of hearts, beating him at a game of wicked chance and earning herself a prize.

And she already knew what she wanted.

"I want you to teach me how to ride your motorcycle," she said.

Vegeta's jaw hit the floor.


	32. The Motorcycle Returns

**Chapter Thirty-One: The Motorcycle Returns**

Bulma smirked as Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her. She knew that he was wondering how he could have allowed such a thing to happen. After all, she knew that he never allowed anyone but her to ride with him on his motorcycle. It was only expected that someday she would ask him if she could drive it on her own. She believed that he shouldn't have been so surprised by her claim of a prize.

"Absolutely not, woman," he said, tossing his head back and crossing his arms tightly over his muscle-covered chest.

"What do you mean? Our deal was that the winner could choose a prize, and the other wasn't allowed to deny the winner what they chose as their prize. And you know damn well that I wasn't going to deny you your predictable prize of sex. Therefore, a deal is a deal. And you must oblige to what I want."

"Wrong, woman. You desire my prize, but I've already told you that my bike is off limits to you."

"Please don't start with limits. I could beat you from here to the end of the driveway when it comes to limits. Such as you living under my roof, in my house, on my couch."

"I've slept in your bed before," he added thoughtfully.

"Don't try and change the subject, Vegeta. You know exactly what I mean."

"You'll have to beat me in a game that requires skill, not chance, for the opportunity to drive my bike. She's more important to me than you getting pissed for an hour or so before your parents arrive."

" _She_? Really? You're one of those people who have _genders_ for their vehicles?"

"Whatever," he said, turning around.

"Vegeta!" Bulma called. "You promised!"

"I promised nothing, woman, and you know it."

Bulma lowered her head. "You're no fun," she whimpered, knowing that there was nothing she could do if he didn't agree. The thought was maddening. Vegeta chuckled, but said nothing in reply.

A knock at the door distracted Bulma. She glanced over at Vegeta, but he wasn't looking at her. It was too early for her parents, she thought, walking over and opening the door. She was a bit surprised to find Goku on the other side.

"Hi, Bulma," he said with a cheery smile. Vegeta turned around, looked at him for a moment, and then rolled his eyes, heading for the stairs. When he was at the top, and the creaking of the floor revealed that he was lying down on her bed, Goku continued "I just wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything."

Bulma lifted an eyebrow. "Chichi sent you, didn't she?" she asked, and Goku jumped, as if he thought it wouldn't be so obvious. Then he lowered his head, defeated, and nodded.

"Yeah. She said that your parents would be here, so I was supposed to take Vegeta back to Chichi's house for you. But I don't sense your parents anywhere. Did something happen?"

"Nothing bad, no. They're just running a little late is all. But I think taking Vegeta away while they're here is a great idea, now that you mention it." Goku smiled, probably just glad to be of some help. "And tell Chichi that I'm very grateful. And thank you, too, for coming all the way over here just to take Vegeta back. Although I'm sure he could have gone there on his own, you know. All you really had to do was call one of us and suggest the idea."

"You know he probably wouldn't leave if it was only a suggestion for him," Goku snickered. "I'm here to tell you that the suggestion part of it is only for you. If you want him gone so he doesn't annoy your parents while they're here, then it's no longer a choice for Vegeta." He laughed again. Bulma sighed with a smile.

"That would probably be best, knowing how he likes to argue."

"So, then," Goku said, "Would you like me to be your Vegeta exterminator for today, Miss Briefs? I've got my equipment with me and I think your house only holds a single Vegeta, not that that means that it's any less aggravating when you see that your home has an infestation, of course."

Bulma shook her head as she laughed. Goku headed for the stairs. "Come on, Vegeta!" He called, holding onto the railing as he leaned forward to try and see where he was up there. "You're coming with me until Bulma's parents are gone! She doesn't want you causing any trouble while they're here, so let's go!"

There was no response for half of a minute before Goku sighed hopelessly and made his way up the stairs to fetch the Saiyan Prince and drag him back home. Bulma slowly followed after him.

"Oh, will you leave me alone, Kakarot?" Vegeta whine-growled. Bulma entered her bedroom and almost burst out laughing at the sight before her eyes. Goku was pulling Vegeta across the floor on a sheet that he had pulled off of her bed. Vegeta sat in the middle of said sheet with his legs crossed, his arms tightly folded over his chest, and a childish pouty-face as his expression. "Woman," he called to her, "Tell this mangy mongrel to get out of here before I _beat_ him out."

"Be nice, Vegeta," Bulma laughed and Goku turned to look at her over his shoulder and laughed with her. Vegeta tightened his folded arms and Bulma could picture him puffing his cheeks out and squeezing his eyes closed. She laughed all the more at the image that formed in her head.

"Do you think this is amusing?" he snarled at them.

Goku and Bulma both nodded and then looked at each other in silence. Mere seconds passed before they burst out laughing once more. Vegeta growled and then sighed, clearly having something up his sleeve.

"Kakarot! Get out of here! Bulma and I have a deal to complete." And then he turned his eyes on her and Bulma almost smiled at him. Almost.

"Bye, Goku," she said quickly, pushing him out of the doorway to her bedroom and towards the stairs. His expression proved that he had no idea what was going on. When he was about to plummet down the flight of steps, he unwillingly agreed to leave with a confused tilt of his head and an open mouth, but no words. "You heard the Saiyan Prince. There's work that has to be done before my parents arrive. Although, I do appreciate the offer. Thanks again!" she called as the front door squeaked open. Goku tried to call back up the stairs. "Come any time!" she interrupted him, and when the door creaked shut and slammed, she whipped around. "Now, get off your ass, or I'll make him come back in here," she said to Vegeta, folding her own arms to mimic his aggravated movement from before.

"Well _that_ really got you to do something," he muttered in annoyance.

"You actually keeping your promise?" she guffawed. "That's enough to tilt the world upside-down, Vegeta. To be honest, I never really thought you were going to agree to it from the beginning."

"Then why would you argue?" he asked with an exasperated tone, but Bulma never replied to his rhetorical question.

"Are you coming?" she asked on her way down the stairs. His approaching footsteps came as his reply and Bulma continued walking until she opened the back door to her house and stepped outside. Vegeta followed. "You're awfully quiet. Why the silent treatment?" she asked when she stood not two yards from his bike and the enticing kickstand.

"It's not every day that you force me into teaching you something," he said. "I'm just surprised at the moment, you could say." He smirked and walked ahead of her, coming between her and his motorcycle.

"What are you doing?" she questioned cautiously.

"There is one exception to all this," he said, holding his index finger up in the air to make sure she was paying close attention to him and his following words. When he was satisfied that Bulma was paying him heed and she was just a bit angry, he continued. "You can learn today, but if you don't ride accordingly, then you'll never drive it again. Understand?"

"Not really," she responded with a pout. Why did he always have to add his stupid twists to everything?

"It's simple, even for an Earthling such as yourself. You must be able to drive well enough so that I feel you are in no danger whatsoever if you're, let's say, by yourself at some point. Make sense?"

"You're going to have to be clearer than that, Vegeta. All I got was some bull about how this can somehow relate to my safety, which probably has something to do with a benefit for yourself."

He slightly shook his head. Bulma didn't know what it meant, but she continued to listen nonetheless. "There's one rule." He paused a moment to glance at her and analyze her expression. "You must stay in your own lane. No exceptions." He smirked.

"What?" Bulma asked, blinking a few times to blot away her confusion.

"You'll see," he said, throwing his left leg over the motorcycle and beckoning for her to jump on the back. Bulma complied and wrapped her arms around his waist. He twisted his shoulders and placed the black helmet on top of her head. Remembering that she threw it into the woods at Chichi's house, she wondered when he found the time to retrieve it. Not dwelling on the thought, Bulma adjusted the strap and re-wrapped her arms around Vegeta. He was warm.

Bulma wondered what was going on when he slowly pulled out of her driveway, and followed the speed limit of her road for about two minutes before coming to a gentle halt.

"What are we doing here?" Bulma asked. It was a straightaway on the western side of her old road. No one but the people who lived on the street ever came down the road. It didn't lead to anywhere important, and it couldn't be used for a detour. In fact, it was a perfect place to learn to properly drive a motorcycle. Bulma frowned to herself. She knew how to drive a car, and she knew the mechanics of motorcycles. She wasn't a new driver, so why the big deal about teaching her how to drive?

"This is your only test," Vegeta said, pointing to the old road. "Stay in your lane for a specific amount of time without getting distracted and going over the lines and you can drive her anywhere you like." His smirk told her that something was up.

"What's the catch?" She narrowed her eyebrows at her dream boy.

"Don't get distracted." He flourished his hand, motioning for her to take the seat on his bike. Bulma swung her leg over and made sure her helmet was on correctly and comfortably. When she felt the back of the bike lower from a new weight, she knew what the catch was.

"A distraction, huh?" she echoed sourly. Vegeta chuckled, shaking the bike a little.

"Get in your lane," he ordered and Bulma looked over her shoulder at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm in my lane," she said, as if talking to a fake know-it-all.

"That's not what I meant," he said, placing his feet down and pushing the bike forward and to the left. When both tires were between the yellow lines in the middle of the old road, he wrapped his arms around her waist and chuckled, shaking the bike again.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked, glancing down. There were barely two inches on either side of the front tire. She didn't even want to check the back tire. And she knew he really wanted her to fail when he nuzzled his head into her upper back, squeezing her a little tighter. This was his claim on the rights to his bike, she presumed. Another challenge, she thought with a mental sigh. What a surprise. She rolled her eyes and gripped the handles of the already purring machine. The vibrations of the engine weren't helping her cause either. It was Vegeta and his bike against her, she concluded painstakingly.

"I'm waiting," he mumbled into the back of her school-shirt. Bulma froze for a moment. "The emergency brake," he whispered, making the effort to lift his head up so she could hear him clearly.

After she took the emergency brake off, she switched the gears and gently pulled back on the throttle, listening to the engine's purr develop and grow to be a soft roar. Vegeta's head came back down against her upper back and Bulma had to stop herself from snapping at him for it. She was going to do this right, whether he wanted her to, or not.

She glanced ahead. It was a fairly long, straight road. There weren't any bumps along the yellow lines, only on the left and right side, where it was worn from car tires and the weather, including runoff, since the road was a bit slanted down from the middle. This seemed to be her only advantage.

"What's the specific amount of time?" she asked.

"Let's go with thirty seconds," he said and Bulma frowned. It wasn't much of a test. "I'll count for you." Thirty seconds between the yellow lines didn't seem so bad now that she thought about it. Vegeta's weight would even help to steady the bike. Maybe the odds were turning in her favor, she thought hopefully.

She started off slow, taking it easy with barely any force on the throttle. She angrily heard Vegeta cover up his laugh behind her and she frowned, adding a bit more force. She was at a steady ten miles per hour and the tires were exactly where she wanted them as they slowly rolled over and over. Then she picked up the speed a little. She checked the speedometer to see that she was already at forty-five miles an hour. She got a better grip on the handles and the bike swerved, but thankfully, didn't touch, or go over one of the threatening yellow lines. They seemed to get closer and closer without her even doing anything.

"Seven, eight, nine…" Vegeta mocked. "What if you were on the highway, pinned between two tractor trailers, woman? I doubt you'd get anywhere but the afterlife if you continued swerving like this. I don't find any reason to let you drive anything but that dinky white car of yours. At least it could keep you safer than this."

"Oh, shut up, Vegeta," she whispered forcibly, her attention mainly focused on staying between the lines.

"Thirteen, fourteen fifteen…" he continued, his mocking tone always present. "You're half-way there."

Bulma pushed the throttle forward just a bit more. The extra speed made her hair whip around her face, but the bike seemed to go straighter with the added speed. She checked the speedometer to find that she was at sixty-five miles per hour. It was nearly forty-five miles over the old road's speed limit. It made her feel unsafe, but the long, straight road continued on, without a turn in sight. The trees on either side of the road formed a sort of canopy overhead, but she didn't dare raise her eyes to the sky in such a situation as the one she found herself currently in.

"Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…" He made a noise that made butterflies flutter in Bulma's stomach. "I guess I'm not distracting enough," he sighed, and Bulma felt his lips come up to her neck and his hands loosen to grip her on either side of her waist. "Twenty-five…" he flicked his tongue across her skin on the back of her neck and she shivered, the bike shivering with her.

"Stop," she breathed unconvincingly, having to force her head to not fall lean back into him. She tightened her hold on the throttle. She could do this. "Twenty-seven," she said, mocking him in return. But when she felt his fingers grab her around the waist, his teeth nipped at the skin on the side of her neck, and his hips hunched forward, the front tire swerved left, onto the yellow line.

"Twenty-nine…"

And before she could turn it back in time, it went over.

"You lose," he whispered with a chuckle, placing his hands over hers and slowing the bike down by hitting the brakes for the back tires. Bulma panted as he swung his leg over and got off. He motioned for her to do the same, but she quickly hit the throttle with a smirk and listened to the tires peel on the pavement.

But the sound never ceased. She turned to find Vegeta holding the back tire. She knew the bike wasn't going anywhere.

"You don't have to break it because you're a sore loser," he mumbled.

"A sore loser?!" Bulma snapped. "It's stupid because the test in invalid!"

"Invalid?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow, "Woman, has the past minute of your life damaged your brain somehow? What makes the test valid or invalid in the first place?"

"You've never taken it, so how is it fair to give it to me? You should have done it first. You were probably just too scared about what would happen if you lost!" she shouted, pointing a finger at him.

"How about you get off my bike?" he asked, "And stop ruining the tires."

Bulma let go of the throttle and jumped off the seat, folding her arms and turning away from her dream boy.

"Maybe you shouldn't get your hopes set on something that, deep down, you know you can never have." His chuckle made Bulma turn red. She whipped around.

"Well, you don't have to be a jerk about it!"

She was upset, and it made Vegeta frown. Did he do that?

"What do you want? Another chance?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest in meaninglessness and displeasure.

"No," she snapped again, "I think you've made your point quite clear. Or you don't think it's enough? You want me to try again so you can prove me wrong and tell me how great you are, you over-arrogant bastard! Is that it?"

"Not quite," he said, placing his eyes on her face with a tight frown. His arms tightened across his chest and he lifted his head, still looking at her. "What do you want?" he asked again, "For me to just let you take my transportation wherever you like, whenever you feel like it?"

"You can fly! You don't even need it!"

"So, you want to _keep_ it?! What's wrong with you? You can't even drive it safely!"

"And who says that you can drive any better than me? You could crash it as much as I could, or anyone else in the world for that matter!"

There was a short pause. "You're kidding, right?" he asked. "You don't honestly believe that, do you?" He seemed genuinely offended. "Listen to me, woman. You are an _Earthling_. I am a _Saiyan_. Naturally, not because you're you or I'm me, but _naturally_ , I am physically better than you. That means that I am more physically capable of controlling this machine and keeping whoever is on it safe."

"Says you," Bulma said, more-so pouting that being upset now.

"Do you honestly need me to prove it to you?" he asked in exasperation. "Is _that_ what you want?" He walked over to her and gripped her one shoulder, pulling her along. "Thirty seconds," he said, making sure her helmet was on tight before swinging his leg over the bike. "Are you coming or not?" he asked, annoyed with her behavior. She was acting like a spoiled child that didn't get what she wanted for her birthday. "Fine, if I am unable to do this, then you win, and you can take it whenever you please, as long as you tell me when you're leaving and when you'll be coming back. Alright?"

Bulma glanced at him and responded by getting onto the back of the bike. Her weight didn't bring it down as much as Vegeta's had. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, she said, "I'll count." The fact that Vegeta was negotiating the terms for her taking his bike, should it come to that conclusion, meant that he thought there was a possibility that he could fail. And that got her excited.

Vegeta smirked and hit the throttle with one foot planted on the ground, turning the bike around and stopping directly between the yellow lines, on both the front tire and the back tire. He set off, quickly escalating to thirty miles per hour.

"Two, three, four…" Bulma said, unhappy with her decision. She was still angry at him, but distracting him had to come first, she concluded with a mental sigh. She placed her hands on his hips and nibbled at the skin on the side of his neck, as he had done to her. She closed her eyes and kissed him gently, letting a soft, passionate noise escape through her parted lips. But, other than the wind, she couldn't even tell that she was moving. The bike was as steady as a boulder in the middle of a sand dune. So was Vegeta, she realized with a frown. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to stop himself from being turned on by her. No. Way. In. Hell. Not after what he'd said that night at the Oceanview Motel, or what they had done there and back at her home for that matter.

"Eight, nine, ten…" he chuckled, noticing her frozen persona at his unresponsive behavior. "I thought you wanted to win. I guess I was wrong."

Bulma growled and lifted herself up. Making sure her grip on him was tight, she swung one leg over the side of the bike, tilting it one way. But Vegeta made his precise accommodations and the bike remained unyielding.

"Fine then!" she yelled over the roar of the tiny engine. "If you don't swerve, I'll jump off—"

Vegeta flipped himself around, using his back to keep the handle flat and steady as he faced her and looked at her with amusement. He grabbed her leg and forcibly pulled it back over. He used his other hand to pull her closer as he whispered in her ear, "Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…" Bulma turned bright red with anger.

Then, he flipped back around and placed his hands back over the handle. A slight swerve revealed to Bulma that he wasn't undefeatable. He reached behind his back and grabbed one of her wrists, pulling it forward so that she was grabbing onto him again.

"Don't do anything stupid, woman," he called to her. She instantly felt a bit bad about her last move, but she shoved it aside, wrapping her other hand around him as well. "Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…" he added, pressuring her to do something. She obliged, doing the only thing she knew would make him falter. She leaned forward and placed one hand over his member. He grunted, and she wondered why he hadn't expected her to pull that card on him. She also hadn't expected him to be hard. With a sly smirk, she guessed that she had an effect on him all along; he had just been making sure to keep it in check.

Another slight swerve occurred. "Twenty-five…" she whispered seductively into his ear, swiftly sliding her hand into his pants and quickly pumping him up and down. Another tiny swerve made her involuntarily smile. This bike was going to be her new toy, she thought evilly. "Twenty-six…" She slid her other hand in and tried to find his sensitive spot from the night before. The position they were in was making it difficult, though. After a vital second of failure, she decided to just prod at him as she tugged. Another slight swerve, a more jerking movement than the last, and she smiled again, unable to contain a small laugh from escaping from between her lips. "Twenty-eight…" She saw the front tire just barely graze the yellow line as a loud moan came from the Saiyan Prince.

And then everything stopped. He hit the brakes and the bike came to a total halt. "Twenty-nine, thirty," he said with another moan. "I win." And before she knew it, Bulma's back was roughly placed onto a patch of soft grass from an opening on the side of the road. Vegeta held both her hands in one of his above her head as his lips collided with hers, kissing her feverishly.

"What the hell was that?" Bulma breathed when they parted for a moment.

"I never said you couldn't stop the bike altogether, woman," he panted, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip before kissing her again. When they parted a couple moments later, he continued, "And if you were pinned between two tractor trailers, stopping would probably be one of the best things to do. Why would you want to stay between them if you're pinned, anyway?" Bulma narrowed her eyes as he kissed her again, parting her lips with his tongue and gently nipping her bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan escaped her lips and Vegeta breathed in her sweet breath. "That was quite a nasty trick you pulled," he added against her mouth. "I should have expected as much from you, though. After all, I would have done the same thing."

He let go of her wrists and let his body's weight rest on top of her as they touched. Bulma moved her hands to the back of his neck and his head, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. She rummaged through his hair with her fingertips as she moaned. His lips left hers when he knew she needed a short break, and he trailed wet kisses down to the nape of her neck. He caressed his lips against her collarbone and Bulma closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. It seemed to last forever and she never wanted it to end. And then Vegeta hunched his hips forward and she let out a loud scream for him.

"Bulma?" someone called fearfully and she froze at the familiar feminine voice. It had been so long since the last time she heard it. Vegeta had frozen atop her as well, and she wondered why he had been so distracted to not notice someone's approach.

She heard a car door open and then slam shut with way too much force than necessary, and then the sound of rushed footsteps. The last thing she heard before she was pulled up from the soft, grassy ground was the sound of a shotgun trigger being pulled and the gunpowder being ignited.

The barrel released a bullet.


	33. Confrontations

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Confrontations**

Bulma jumped as her arm below her shoulder was grabbed and she was hoisted to her feet. Her face was shoved into something that was both hard and soft, and it took her a moment to realize what it was. Vegeta was standing in front of her, his thick arms wrapped protectively around her as he stood, his back to the loud bang of the gunshot's origin. Bulma already knew who had made the shot. After hearing her mother's worried voice, it wasn't hard to take a guess at who would have picked up a gun under those circumstances.

And she even understood why her father had made the shot. It wasn't like they had obviously been kissing like any normal couple in the world, because she would have called her and the Saiyan Prince's relationship anything but normal. It was because he had been lying flat on top of her, and she had let out an avid scream. It was unmistakable that her parents had both misunderstood the meaning of that scream, her father more-so.

She anxiously listened to Vegeta's heartbeat pound against the inside of his chest. He grated his teeth together, holding in an apparently very angry growl. She looked up to find that his eyes were closed. Bulma lifted one of her arms and gently stroked the side of his right bicep in an attempt to calm his racing heart and flaring temper. The last thing she needed to happen was for Vegeta to flip out on her father after what had just occurred between the three of them; four, if she included her mother.

"Get away from her!" was the first sound to break the silence. It was clearly her father, Bulma knew. "Or this time, I won't miss!"

Vegeta stood silent for a few seconds while Bulma gripped his arm where she had been caressing it, trying to talk him out of doing anything stupid without the words. And when his words came out as barely a whisper, she wondered if it had worked, or if his anger was bottled up, about to be released in white rage at her father. But she didn't understand what had come out of his mouth.

"Speak up!" he father called, clearly hearing his inaudible whisper and taking it as a threat.

"I said, you _didn't_." His voice was calm and controlled. Bulma let out a mental sigh at her own relief. Although his teeth were still clenched and his breathing was stagnantly harsh, his heartbeat was returning to a normal pace once again.

"What are you talking about?" Bulma's father roared. "Don't you know who I am, you bastard?!"

"You didn't miss!" Vegeta growled, his head whipping over his shoulder, laying his shadowed glare on the older man. Bulma knew that glare from when she first met him. It was more than just a simple threat, she knew.

Her dream boy let go of her with his right hand and he shoved it out towards her father, his fist clenched so tight, she thought he would start to bleed at any moment. And when he opened it, his palm facing upward, she shut her eyes. This wasn't going to be easy, she thought with anxiety-infested anticipation.

She heard her father gawk at what must have been the bullet that Vegeta held in his right hand.

"I know exactly who you are," Vegeta said, his voice almost back to normal, except for the white rage that she knew was boiling right under his skin, flowing through his veins. "You're her male parent. But you're also a threat. If I wasn't me, and instead an Earthling such as yourself, there is a very high likelihood that both I and my mate would be dead or dying right now. You're aim was off, and a bullet such as this one," he paused to motion to his palm, "could easily go through one Earthling's body to strike or go through yet another one, if they happened to be close enough. And seeing as we were nearly connected, I wouldn't doubt that your daughter would have been hit as well."

Her father stood speechless, staring down at the bullet in the Saiyan prince's right palm. "What the hell are you?" he finally managed to ask, the hand holding his gun shaking ever-so-slightly.

Bulma opened her eyes and pushed on Vegeta's chest, telling him to let go of her, since she knew she wouldn't be able to break free of his hold without him allowing it of her. But, for the first time in all her experience with her dream boy, he didn't let her go.

"Vegeta," she whispered up at him, pushing a little harder against him and pounding one of her small fists. Maybe he hadn't felt it. Maybe he had been too distracted to respond…

"Stop it!" he yelled at her, loud enough for everyone to hear. He tightened his left arm's hold on her, pressing her harder against his chest.

"Let her go," Bulma heard her mother call from the car, "Please, just let her go. We'll give you anything you want," the woman pleaded. "Do you want money? We have plenty. You can have as much as you want. Just… don't hurt her, alright?"

"Mom, stop!" Bulma called, "He's not hurting me, and he won't. _Ever_. You have to trust me. Okay? Just stop."

"Let her go!" her father shouted, holding his gun up in a threatening manner.

"Dad, _no_!" Bulma cried, pushing against Vegeta again, this time with the intent to break free, instead of asking with a light push. "Vegeta, you're not helping! Let me go!" And this time, he slowly released her.

Bulma backed away from him and walked towards her father. In the next moment, Vegeta stood on her father's left. They were shoulder-to-shoulder and Bulma noticed that the Saiyan Prince was taller than her father. She should have guessed before, knowing that both her parents were relatively shorter than the average population. But her thoughts had been preoccupied.

The Prince's hand came up and he placed it on the older man's gun. He bent the metal tip with less than a little effort and Bulma had a hard time telling if her father was trying to fight back or not. Either way, it wouldn't have made much of a difference.

"Look at yourself," he said arrogantly, "You're so intimidated that you just pointed a weapon at your own daughter."

"Cut it out, will you?" Bulma ordered her dream boy, walking up to her father and embracing him. Vegeta tore the gun away from the older man's grasp and tossed it onto the ground as if it was a shredded sock: broken and highly unnecessary. "Go over there, okay?" she said to him, pointing behind her to the road. She heard him snarl at being ordered around, but he complied, turning around and walking a few steps away.

"We have to get out of here," her father whispered to her, as if they were in horrible danger and he was prepared to risk his life for her. It was a sweet thought, but not necessary.

"Mom?" Bulma called, "Can you come over here, please?"

She listened to the passenger-side door open and quietly shut before letting go of her father and turning around. Vegeta was standing not too far away with his arms folded. His eyes wandered between the three of them.

"Yes, dear?" her mother asked, clearly frightened, when she came close enough to be heard.

"Can we please start over?" Bulma asked, pushing her mother so that she stood next to her father. "This wasn't exactly how I planned to see you guys again. I thought you were going to come later, like around dinnertime. So…"

"Were you going to have sex with that man?" her mother asked and Bulma guffawed. Her father's face twisted and he took a glance toward his bent shotgun on the ground, a couple yards away.

Bulma wasn't one to lie, and telling her parents everything wasn't going to be fun. She was already planning on what to take out and keep secret until she went to her grave. This was one of those things. She just hoped that Vegeta wouldn't feel the urge to start bragging about certain things that would make him more of an unwelcomed component to her life.

"You know me better than that, Mom," she said, making her voice sound disappointed.

"He called you his _mate_ , Bulma," her mother said, and Bulma cursed her for never missing anything. It never used to come in handy when she was a child and wanted to get away with something she shouldn't have been doing. "That's got to mean something. And why did he call your father an Earthling? What does that mean, anyway?"

"He's not human," her father answered, throwing a glare Vegeta's way.

"And his senses are much better than ours, so I can safely say that he can hear what we're saying. So, I'm going to ask him to come over here. Is that alright?" she asked, speaking as if talking with two frightened children.

"Absolutely not. I don't want him around you, Bulma," her father said heatedly. "He's like a wild animal. He obviously isn't safe. How do you know whether or not he'll act all innocent in one moment, and not try and kill you in the next? He's clearly unpredictable." Her father paused and looked towards the Saiyan once more. "And I _hope_ that you're listening to me!" he shouted, "I'm going to _kill_ you if you ever come near my daughter again! You will leave and _never_ come back!"

"No, no, no, no, no," Bulma said, backing away from her parents. "That isn't how this is going to work, Dad. Vegeta isn't going anywhere."

"What is this, you're first boyfriend?" her father asked, his tone slightly mocking. "Bulma, you'll find many men in your life that you feel attracted to. This seems important to you because you've never felt it before. I understand, trust me. But you just started high school a little over a month ago. You probably haven't known this maniac for more than three weeks. Tell him to leave. You will get over it when the next attractive boy crosses your path. Trust me. I know how these things work. I've been there. So has your mother."

"Yes," her mother nodded, "And this man is dangerous. Don't you see that?"

"He just caught a bullet with his bare hands, Mom. And it was to make sure I didn't get hurt, not to hurt me. Dad," she turned to her father, "You spoke with him on the phone. He already told you who he was and what he is. I know it's hard to grasp, but it's all true. And you haven't been in my position. Neither of you have. I've heard that all parents think that love is whatever they've experienced, but I've realized that they're all kind of different. Especially mine. You have to understand _that_. Vegeta just protected me. That has to count for something in your eyes."

"He's clearly taking advantage of you, Bulma," her father said angrily. "And I'll be damned before I let him brainwash you anymore with his lies and bullshit! He's deceiving you, and like every other teenage boy in the world, all he wants is sex! I just pray to God that you haven't allowed him to poison you yet. You're so young. It would be a shame if you gave yourself away so easily to such a wild man."

"I prefer undomesticated," Vegeta said with a smirk, and they all watched him as he walked closer, coming to stand behind Bulma. He placed a hand on her shoulder and chuckled. "I wouldn't say they're my favorite Earthlings on the planet, but at least I can see where you get your bad sides from," he said to her. Bulma smacked his hand off of her and glared at him, trying to imagine her face having the same threatening glare that he had. But he chuckled again, proving that she didn't and never would match his level of intimidation.

"Didn't you hear me, boy?" her father bellowed angrily, "I thought I told you to leave and never come back! And stay away from my daughter before you regret it!"

"Vegeta, apologize to my father. You're not helping anyone here. You're just making things worse," she whispered to him, tugging on his blue spandex shirt. He chuckled again and stepped forward, ahead of her, towards her parents. Bulma almost smacked her forehead. What was he thinking?!

"I'm not going anywhere. Didn't you hear her before?" he asked, pointing back to Bulma. "If she wants me to stay, then there's nothing you can do about it…" He paused to think about his own words before continuing. "And even if she didn't, I don't think I could make any guarantees. I guess that means you should try and find another alternative." He shrugged. "Clearly, I'm not going anywhere. So, think about what you can do, now that I'm not leaving. Maybe you could invite me to stay for a while. Being polite sounds appealing, and there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried anxiously, running so that she could stand between him and her parents. She put either one of her arms out to each of their sides, as if to say that she was neutral and would never pick a side. Her father didn't look happy about that in the least. Her mother looked worried, as if her daughter might have lost her marbles or something, and Vegeta crossed his arms, simply amused, as usual. "Dad, Mom, listen to me. Vegeta is one of my best friends. He's not—"

"He's a little more than a friend! Don't you think?!" her father asked, clearly angry and upset that she wasn't obeying him and his wishes as her father.

"Dad, please. Just listen."

"He's right, though," Vegeta smirked, "I wouldn't call what we have friendship unless it comes with a different package as well."

"Will you cut it out?!" she whispered loudly, not wanting to raise her voice any more than it already was. "Now, Dad…" she turned back to her parents. "Whatever. Okay, he's my boyfriend. I just didn't want you to overreact or anything if I said it."

"It clearly didn't work," Vegeta piped in again with amusement. Bulma noticed that her father's face was becoming redder and redder by the second.

"Vegeta is staying!" Bulma cried, just spitting it out, since she wasn't getting anywhere to begin with. She couldn't stop her voice from speeding up as she continued, but she didn't care. Her parents, her father especially, had to hear this. "Whether you like it or not! Yes, I know he can be annoying and he'll probably piss you off more times than you can count. He might be a bit of a nutcase, but he'll never hurt me. We get along just fine and if you don't allow him to stay with us, then I'm leaving with him!" Bulma felt a tear run down her face. How could this be happening right now? "You can't keep him away because he's a part of me, and you'll be hurting me if you tear him away like this! You just _shot_ at him, Dad! What do you expect? For him to forgive you and walk away like you ask of him? He cares about me, whether he wants to admit it or not, and he can't help it if he gets angry after your bullet could have killed me, too! So now, it shouldn't come as a surprise if he doesn't like you all that much!"

"Bulma, please," her mother said, trying to calm her down. "If he means so much to you, then maybe we can find another way to do this. He doesn't have to live with us. I mean, look at how you're reacting over some boy—"

"Mom, _I love him_!" she screamed, unable to contain her tears from flowing. She dropped to the ground on her knees and covered her face, ashamed at her own unexpected outburst. She didn't bother to turn to see the look on Vegeta's face. If he didn't know by now, then there was something wrong with him.

"Oh, my God," her father said, "It's worse than I thought… " He raised his voice. "Bulma, you can't see this boy anymore. He obviously isn't having a very good effect on you, and I for one _don't_ like the sight of it. He's like a disease, and you've already been infected by it. You need to breathe some fresh air. You need to get out of this little fantasy world that you're in. It's not healthy. Can't you see the difference between this dream-world that you've trapped yourself in and the reality of the situation? _Come to your_ _senses_ , _Bulma_!"

"Go home," Vegeta said, walking to stand between Bulma, on her knees, and her parents, standing close to five feet away from her. His frame was barely a foot from her father's face, which was now redder than ever before. Bulma's mother looked frightened, more-so than before. "I'll bring her back in less than an hour," he said, and then turned around, kneeling next to her on one knee.

"I don't think so, you crazy bastard!" her father shouted. "You're even stupider than you look if you think I'm going to just leave without my daughter. And what's worse, you think I'm going to leave her alone with _you_ , and trust that you'll bring her back to me unharmed? Don't make me laugh, boy! You just stand up and go about your business somewhere else. I'm taking Bulma home, and you're going to leave, like I said before, and never come back. And you should know that I really hate having to repeat myself to idiots like you. When I say something, I expect to be listened to and obeyed. That doesn't waver for anyone, especially you. So, why don't you just run along?"

"Because there's nothing you can do about it," he growled. "If I was as weak and pathetic as you, then maybe I would listen because I feared the outcome if I refused or disobeyed. But I am _not_ as weak and pathetic as you and your kind. I am a Saiyan, and therefore your accusations become empty threats in my eyes. If you shoot me, I will catch your bullets. If you punch me, your bones will crack and shatter. If you call your planet's stupid enforcement agencies, I will evade them and come back. If I am caught, I will escape. Any efforts you have against allowing me to stay are worthless, and your attempts to force me into leaving are futile. I am better than you in every way, and it angers you because you know my words are true and you know that there is nothing you can do about it. That is why I will not " _run along_ ", as you put it."

Vegeta turned around and lifted Bulma off the ground. "Go home," he repeated, "I will follow in a short amount of time."

"No," Bulma said, pushing against him in an attempt to tell him to put her down. He lifted an eyebrow, but set her on her feet nonetheless. "We're all going home, together. Dad, Mom, get in the car," she softly commanded, walking towards the vehicle. She swiped her sleeve under her eyes to dry her fallen tears. "Vegeta, you can take your motorcycle. I think it would be better if I could speak with my parents alone. It's a short drive. No more than a couple minutes. You know the way. It'll be fine."

"You don't mean that he's been living with you?" her mother asked, shocked beyond belief. "Bulma, boys and girls don't live together at this age. You have to wait until your old enough to handle such a situation."

"You better not have taken her from me, or I swear to God," she heard her father warn as Vegeta walked over to his already-running bike. The purr of the engine had drowned into the background, and Bulma had completely erased it from her hearing since her parents had arrived.

"Empty threats," Vegeta called, before taking off ahead of them, speeding down the old road without another word. Bulma watched as his tires stayed perfectly between the yellow lines down the center of the street.

"Get in the car, sweetheart," her mother said. "Your father will drive slowly so we can have more time to talk about all this." They got in the car and Bulma sighed when her father didn't even start moving. He left the heat on and kept his feet away from the pedal, and his hands didn't rest on the steering wheel. "I'm very happy for you," her mother began, "I think it's wonderful that you're meeting new people and spending time with other teenagers. You'll learn many new things as you interact with people your age. But isn't it a little too early to be thinking about boys? You should start by focusing on your grades and your schoolwork before you get involved in serious relationships."

"Oh, stop it," her father said, reprimanding her mother. "Bulma, you aren't allowed to see this boy anymore. When we get back, he's leaving and going home. He cannot live with you and there is no way in hell I'm allowing him to stay."

"But, Dad—"

"Absolutely not! No questions asked. That young man is leaving. He shouldn't have been living with you in the first place! I don't know what happened to you over the past month, but you need to get your head screwed back on! What could you have possibly been thinking? We raised you to know better than that. And you will be spending more time on your studies. The time you would have spent with this boyfriend of yours is now going to be designated as homework time. Is that clear?"

Bulma had to do something, or she was going to lose Vegeta. Not for forever, but she didn't want him to leave. She couldn't have her time outside of school dedicated to homework and studying when she knew Vegeta was outside, without a place to stay. Maybe Chichi and Goku wouldn't mind taking him back under these circumstances. And what happened to her rant from before? About how she cared so much about him and how he cared so much for her in return? She couldn't let this happen. Her parents were ruining everything, and she knew that the only way to stop them was to side with Vegeta over her father. The thought hurt her heart and it pained her to think about doing such a thing to her father. No matter what he thought about Vegeta, she still loved him with all her heart. How could she turn on him like she was thinking of doing?

"No, Dad," she said. "I told you before. Vegeta isn't going anywhere."

" _What_?! Bulma, watch yourself!" her father's face was turning red again, and she didn't like the sight of it without Vegeta's sarcasm backing her up.

"I understand your point, and I can definitely spend more time on my schoolwork. I have no problem with that. But Vegeta doesn't exactly live anywhere. If you made him leave, he would have to sleep outside, in the cold. And it's a brutally cold season. I couldn't do that to him, and I certainly won't allow you to do it to him either."

"Is that the bullshit he told you? Is that the lie he fed you so that he could stay in your house? Well, I'm going to find this boy's parents and give them a talking to!"

"Dad, he's a Saiyan. His parents aren't… well, they aren't on this planet."

"Stop talking nonsense, honey," her mother scolded.

"No, I'm completely serious," Bulma replied. "Dad, you can start driving now," she added. Her father grabbed the steering wheel, but didn't move the car. "Vegeta already told you, Dad, who he is. And he isn't lying. He's a Saiyan, and he's from Planet Vegeta. His name is the same as his planet's because he's next in line for the throne. He's a prince, actually. And he can fly, as you already saw on the news, I'm guessing. He's so strong, too. And Goku, one of his friends, said that he can turn gold or something, and it amplifies his power by over one hundred percent."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" her father asked, looking at her from the front mirror. "Have you turned into some sort of idiot or something?! Earth to Bulma! Get out of that fantasy world you're living in and come back to reality! People will think that you've gone insane if you start telling them these things! Don't you hear yourself? You sound like a _moron_!"

"Stop that!" Bulma's mother cried, hitting her father in the shoulder. "Bulma, you can't honestly believe the things he's telling you. He's not an alien. He's not the prince of another species. You sound like you're telling a children's story."

"Are you two blind?" Bulma asked rhetorically. "You saw him fly on the news. You just witnessed him catching a bullet with his bare hands. I could get him to lift up the car for you if you still don't believe me. Just because you think something is impossible, that doesn't mean that it is. Especially in this case. Vegeta is amazing, and I just want you guys to see that like I see it. He's more than the average teenage boy, dad. There's more to our relationship than you can understand. I haven't known him for very long, but already, we've been through so much that it feels like I've known him my entire life. And he does care about me. I don't know how to explain it, but he told me himself. I can tell a phony when I see one, and I've seen some really fake boys already in Orange Star High, but Vegeta is genuine. He's one of a kind, and I don't think that it would help anyone if you sent him outside to sleep in this cold weather for every night until what, winter? I don't even know if he'll survive. So, if you want to separate us, it isn't going to happen. I'm sorry to just tell you off like that, but if you send him away, you're sending me away with him. He's been sleeping downstairs anyway. You can watch him all you want while he's there, Dad. You can criticize him whenever you feel like it, but don't kick him out. Just give him a chance. He means everything to me now, and I want nothing more than for you to understand why."

"All right," her mother said slowly. "We can give this boy a chance. I think it would be nice to get to know him if you feel so strongly about this."

"Dad?" Bulma asked. With her mother agreeing though, there wasn't much her father could say and get his way all at the same time.

"Well, fine," he said, clearly angry that he wasn't getting his way. Bulma did feel a bit bad about the way she spoke back to him. She guessed she just found the courage she never knew she had. Or the courage she never thought would work against her father. "But," her father added harshly, "Don't come crying to me when he breaks up with you."

Bulma couldn't contain her smile as her father drove home.


	34. A Parental Surprise

**Chapter Thirty-Three: A Parental Surprise**

Bulma and her uneasy parents approached the back door and Vegeta, leaning against the side of the house, waiting patiently for them to arrive and unlock the door. She knew her father was probably giving her dream boy some sort of nasty or threatening look.

"It's about time," Vegeta said softly, crossing his arms across his chest and smirking at Bulma, "So, are have they agreed to my staying here, or is this going to become an unfair fight? Unfair in their favor, of course."

"My parents have so kindly _decided_ to allow you to stay instead of kicking you out to sleep in the cold, Vegeta," Bulma growled, shoving past him to open the door and shouldering his arm along the way. She heard him chuckle, but she knew that the intended message had be understood nonetheless. Vegeta wasn't an idiot.

She shoved the key into the lock and it stuck fast, unlocking the door when she twisted it to the right. She opened the door and stepped inside. She took off her shoes and opened the door to the laundry room and the kitchen.

"Wow," she heard her mother say as they all entered the house. Bulma turned to find her smiling at her surroundings. "Your father and I bought this place so long ago that I think that I almost forgot how beautiful it is. And you've kept it so neat and tidy. That's my girl." At the sound of neatness and tidiness, Bulma remembered her bedroom and the missing bedframe behind her torn mattress and pillow. Not to mention the ruined pair of sheets that were so neatly hidden in the garage behind them. Thanks to sheer luck, they hadn't noticed the big white garbage bag on their way inside the house. Especially her mother, which came as a genuine surprise.

She hoped the mess upstairs wasn't too obvious. She hadn't been expecting her parents so early, so she had planned to take Vegeta up on his offer with his motorcycle and then come back home to fix up her bedroom and make something nice for dinner. Clearly, that hadn't worked out as she had planned.

"So, I guess you two will want the master bedroom upstairs," Bulma said. "I sleep in the second bedroom on the right when you go up the stairs, and Vegeta always sleeps on the couch, down here." She paused, hoping that her lie wasn't stupidly obvious. "Did you want anything special for dinner?" she asked her parents, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her heels in a bit of an anxiety fit.

"Oh, don't do anything like that for us, sweetheart," her mother said with a heartfelt smile, "We're just your parents, not royalty. You make whatever you want to make, or we can even go out for dinner if you don't feel like cooking."

"I'm in the mood for steak, medium-rare," her dad added, looking up at the ceiling with a hazy look in his eyes and a dreamy smile.

"You're _always_ in the mood for steak, Dad," Bulma laughed, rolling her eyes. She turned to ask Vegeta what he wanted to eat, but she noticed that he had gone elsewhere. Probably upstairs, she presumed, also feeling that he must have been absent when the first smile that she had seen came to her father's face.

The three of them laughed for a moment or two while Bulma's mother looked at the bottom floor of the house, commenting how nice it looked, her voice echoing from the other rooms. When her father rolled his eyes at her comments, Bulma couldn't help but laugh again. She couldn't deny that it was wonderful to see her parents after a month without them. There hadn't been a single day where they hadn't seen each other when she was younger. She had been surprised when she hadn't missed them as terribly as she originally thought she would when they left her alone on the first day.

"Where did that boy run off to?" her father asked when everything became silent once again. Bulma's mood instantly took a short drop, but she kept herself in check nevertheless.

"I think he went upstairs," she said, forcing herself to be cheerful as she spoke. "Why do you ask? Does it matter where he went?"

"Now, Bulma," he said softly, probably making sure Bulma's mother wouldn't easily get involved. "I may have agreed with this boy staying here, but I never said I like the idea of it. He's going to have to understand some rules around here, like I'm the one in charge while I'm here. And at this rate, I don't know if I'm going to be leaving for a while until I put the fear of God in that boy."

Bulma wanted to say that he would be staying for a while then, but she kept her mouth shut. "What about work?" she decided to ask.

"You're more important than work, Bulma."

She wanted to roll her eyes. The safest time for her was when Vegeta was around, despite what her father may have wanted to believe. "Oh, I know," she said, wondering why she was acting so fake around her father. He was usually the only person she felt she could be herself without repercussions, and here she was, faking like a weak coward and a deceptive phony.

"Go upstairs," he said suddenly and Bulma turned her head and lifted an eyebrow. Her father knew that was where Vegeta had gone to. She wondered what was up. "Go tell that boy that I want him to be a part of what we do. If he's going to live with us, then he's going to have to do some work, too."

"Dad," Bulma whined, but in her heart, it was more of a warning.

"No. My decision is final. Go upstairs for a while. I want to have a word with your mother."

Bulma gave him another skeptical and confused look before turning around and heading for the stairs. She turned around to look over her shoulder in case he changed his mind, but he was already heading into the family room, where her mother was. She sighed and walked up the stairs. She concluded that he wanted to talk with her about Vegeta while Bulma was missing in action, so as not to sway her mother from saying anything unnecessary or biased for her daughter.

As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, Vegeta seemed to come out of nowhere to stand next to her. His expression was one of amusement, relief, and something she had never seen before, a bit of embarrassment.

"What is it?" she asked, hoping it was nothing bad. But just in case… "My dad said to tell you that he's going to make you do some work around the house if you're going to stay here with me… I mean _us_."

"You're bleeding," he replied with a smirk, ignoring what she had told him. Bulma looked down at herself at the unexpected remark. She didn't see any red going through her clothing, and her arms were scratch-less. She looked back up at him, a frown on her face.

"No, I'm not," she said, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him, "But if I really was, why would you be smirking about it?"

"Because it means my mistake has no repercussions." He smirked once more.

"Come again?" Bulma asked, tilting her head in confusion. "What mistake did you make? And why would there be repercussions for it?"

He turned around and walked back into her bedroom. She followed cautiously. He leaned over and picked something up off the floor. He stood back up and tossed it at her. Bulma naturally missed it and it landed on the floor at her feet. She stared down at the familiar light blue box and the first thought that came to mind was the mistake that Vegeta had made. The reason why he knew that the repercussions wouldn't occur hit her next and her eyes darted to his face.

"Oh," she said, backing up to exit her bedroom and enter the hallway. "I'm _bleeding_ …" she added, mostly to herself, understanding the meaning to his prior comment. "I'll be in the bathroom," she said quickly, before whipping around and racing for the door.

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Bulma watched as her father and mother walked into the kitchen to retrieve some of the reaming dishes. Vegeta was leaning against the farthest wall, watching her set the table with some of the evening's food selection. She wished he would do something other than stand there and look useless, because it would have looked better if he helped out instead of lazily standing there, waiting to be served. In all honest, useless wasn't just what he looked like. He was genuinely being no help whatsoever. She knew he was royalty on his home planet, but he should have been able to learn something about Earthlings for the five years he had been on Earth.

"Vegeta," she said, making sure he heard a bit of a threat in her tone, "Could you get four glasses, please. I think my mom forgot them when she set the plates and silverware."

He shrugged and walked into the kitchen. She wondered if it had been such a good idea to send him into the room that currently held both her parents. She still had no idea what they had been talking about when she gad gone upstairs, but she hoped it had been something good instead of something like a way to get rid of her Saiyan boyfriend.

When everyone sat down at the table, the food was prepared and Vegeta had managed to bring in four glasses without getting into trouble with her father Bulma took her seat and sighed. However long her parents were going to stay at her house was going to be a rough ride for her. Not so much for Vegeta because he had some sort of complex when it came to caring about other people, mainly her because she was the one who was apparently going to pay for his misbehaving. A part of her couldn't wait for the day when her father took out some of his fury, which was initially directed at Vegeta, at Vegeta.

"So, Vegeta," Bulma's mother said, and everyone looked at her, as if they hadn't expected her to speak, and they honestly hadn't expected it anyway. Especially for her to speak directly to Vegeta. That came as a bit of a shock. "Bulma didn't say too much about you, and all she said about your name was that it was Vegeta. What's your last name?"

"Ouji," he replied, shoveling some macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

"Bulma also said that you, umm… come from a different planet that's named after you." She sounded a bit skeptical, but Bulma couldn't blame her. It was a little hard to believe, especially if hearing it for the first time. But at least her parents knew she couldn't be that crazy after watching his fly to save her on the news.

"I was named after the planet, actually. If the planet was named after me, then I would have had to be born before the planet was founded. Therefore, I wouldn't be able to come from that planet at all, would I?"

"Vegeta," Bulma said, trying to tell him that he was being rude. She couldn't tell if he got the message or not.

"So, you do come from… a different planet?" She sounded skeptical again.

"Yes."

"Do your… parents live there?"

"Parent, actually. I don't recall ever meeting my mother. The Saiyan male raises the child in the line of royalty on my planet. The female just produces the heir."

"Oh… Do you visit your father often?" Bulma rolled her eyes to herself. Now her mother was just trying to converse and it wasn't sounding quite the way she probably wanted it to.

"I haven't been to my home planet in over five years, and I don't plan on going back. I don't plan on seeing my father again for the rest of my life."

Bulma was a bit surprised to find that he didn't sound like he regretted not being able to go home and see his father, but she had never known about his mother. She wondered if Vegeta's father had just picked a pretty Saiyan girl off the streets. She wondered if he had forced her to procreate for the heir to Planet Vegeta. It sounded like something like that, but she wasn't going to jump to conclusions without knowing the real answer.

"Why is that?" Bulma's father asked, and she wondered if he was only asking in case he could convince him to change his mind and go home.

"Your daughter, Mr. Briefs," he said, a slight mocking tone to his voice. Bulma shot him a glare, but he didn't see her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" her father asked, putting down his fork as if in a threatening manner. Bulma wanted to slap her forehead. Why did they have to do this every time they were around one another?

"It means that she's given me a reason to stay. Why do you ask? Do you have a problem with that? I know you have a problem with me, and there's nothing I can do about it," he shrugged, showing that he didn't care all that much. Bulma wondered if he truly did care what her father thought of him or not. She hoped he did, otherwise this was going to be one of the worst times of her life. Yes, she felt it would be fun to watch them go at it every now and again, but she wouldn't like them to fight all the time. She considered both of them her family, whether her father liked it or not.

"That's right."

"Dad, please," Bulma said, putting up a hand to stop him from going any further and starting any more trouble. She felt like she was the mother of two mischievous boys. "Vegeta, can I talk with you for a minute?" She didn't wait for him to answer. She stood and walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen. When she turned around after making it to the family room, Vegeta was behind her, as she had expected.

She sighed and he imitated her with a mocking sigh. She stopped sighing and glared at him, but he didn't seem intimidated or scared out of doing it anymore. It probably would have entertained him of he continued, but Bulma stopped him by speaking.

"Can you stop trying to make trouble with my father?" she said, but it came out as more of a demand than a request or a question, as she had intended it at first. "Why do you have to act all bold and around him? Don't you know that he's going to take it out on me because I'm the reason why you aren't sleeping outside in the cold, or forced to go back to Chichi's house." She tried to keep her voice low so her parents couldn't hear her. "And before you start sharing everything with my parents, can you keep in mind that your purging mission for Earth isn't exactly a conversation starter. It's more like a conversation _ender_. Permanently. You might even get kicked out if you bring it up, so cut it out. You can't be your usual arrogant, asshole-like self around my parents because… well, because they're my _parents_. Can't you see what's going to happen if you keep acting like this? You can't be so prideful that it gets me in trouble. At least be respectful enough so that they feel comfortable with you around. Maybe even enough so that they'll feel comfortable leaving to go back to work, because it doesn't sound like they're going anywhere at this rate. Okay? So just relax a little bit. Calm _down_ , Vegeta."

He didn't seem like he was in the mood for arguing with her and Bulma was relieved when he just slightly nodded and continued to look over her face.

"Thank you," she said, not knowing what else he could have been staring at her for. And then he took an unexpected, long stride forward and gently brushed his lips against hers, making her stagger, but she didn't obey her body when it told her to take a hasty step backward. Wrapping one arm around the small of her back, he pulled her closer and kissed her delicately. Bulma made sure to keep her moan stuck in her throat so her parents wouldn't hear her before she kissed him in response. Their lips moved together rhythmically and Bulma felt him wrap his other arm around her, pulling her even closer and flattening her against his muscled stomach. She quietly exhaled through her nose, and then parted her lips to breathe him in.

Vegeta let her go when her hands came up to circle around his neck, and their lips hesitantly separated. Bulma's lips remained pouty from the kiss, but she looked him in the eyes and gave him a playful warning gaze.

"No trouble," she said, reminding him that their kiss didn't mean that he could get away with anything that he would have gotten in trouble for if he hadn't kissed her.

"I know," he smirked, "I just thought you looked needy."

Bulma rolled her eyes as they made their way back into the dining room, Vegeta behind her. When they entered under the doorframe, her parents both looked over and stopped their conversation short.

"Don't let me interrupt if you were talking about something," she said, a little ticked off with their secret conversations. What could have been so important for her not to hear that her father would have sent her upstairs to Vegeta, anyway? That didn't make sense at all.

"Oh, it was nothing important, sweetheart," her mother said cheerfully, dabbing her face with a napkin before picking her fork back up and setting down the cloth on her lap. Bulma frowned, but didn't let anyone see her, as she pulled out her chair and sat down and continued to eat in silence.

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Bulma stared at herself in the mirror of the upstairs bathroom, leaning over the counter to get a better look at herself. She had light circles under her eyes and she didn't like the sight of them at all. She guessed that they could have come from her nearly sleepless nights with Vegeta, but she had gotten at least five hours of sleep last night. She decided that she would go to bed early and see if they were still there in the morning. That should solve her problem, she hoped.

Overall, the day hadn't been so bad. Vegeta hadn't made any purposeful trouble with her father after she spoke with him, which she had been genuinely surprised about. In all honesty, she hadn't expected him to listen to her, but he had.

Bulma wrapped her wet hair in a towel and sighed. The mirror didn't show her reflection very well what with all the mist and fog from her shower from not two minutes ago anyway. She put on her clothes for the night and opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the cold hallway. The temperature change from the hot shower to the cool nighttime air of her house made a shiver go up through her spine. She shook her head and entered her bedroom, glancing around at her walls. Her room seemed empty without Vegeta there, but she knew better. With her parents staying with her, Vegeta would have to sleep on the downstairs couch. He would hate it, and probably already did, but she wasn't going to like it much either.

She sighed again. It wasn't like she was going to sleep with him every night of the week if he stayed with her sometimes… she rethought about that and rolled her eyes. If Vegeta was in a good mood, who really knew what would happen at night, even with her parents' bedroom down the hallway? She just knew that her father wouldn't fall asleep every night until he was satisfied that nothing was going on, or that Vegeta was sneaking upstairs to see her. She hoped she had made it clear enough to her Saiyan partner before she had come upstairs that her bedroom was strictly off-limits at night while her parents were still around. If he was caught climbing the stairs or in her room at night by her father, all of Hell would come crashing down… or _up_ , Bulma didn't know exactly how to put her thoughts.

She just hoped he would be satisfied sleeping on the couch by himself rather than outside in the cold of the night.

Bulma sat down on her bed and checked her alarm for the next morning. But as she cuddled up under the blankets, she realized just how cold she really felt without him.

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Bulma lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She glanced over at the clock to find that not five minutes had passed since the last time she checked it. It was now three o'clock in the morning, and she was desperately begging for sleep to come to her. She had bags under her eyes, for crying out loud. What was so wrong with her that she wouldn't fall asleep when her body had clearly shown her that she was tired and needed rest more than anything else?

Or maybe there was something else…

Her thoughts darted to Vegeta and she let out a silent sigh. What was the use of thinking about him anyway? It wasn't like she could fly silently down the stairs. And what would her father think if it was her going to Vegeta, instead of Vegeta going to her? Now there was a predicament she hadn't assumed she would come across.

Flinging her legs over the side of her bed and trying her best not to make too much squeaking and creaking as she lifted herself up off the mattress, she stood up and wobbled to keep her balance. She felt dizzy, but she assumed that it was only from being in a horizontal position for just about five hours, and then swiftly getting to her feet. She balanced her way to the doorway and headed for the stairway in the darkness. Thankfully, she had been living in her house for long enough to know how many steps it took to get to the stairs from her room, and how many steps it took to get down to the first floor of her house. Eight steps, then the platform, then five more steps, and then the bottom floor of her home.

The house was new, so she squeaked less often than she thought she would. When she made it to the platform and everyone was still sound asleep, Bulma reached out blindly for the railing and found it. She then shuffled her feet until she hit the first step. Climbing down the remaining five and landing safely on her feet without breaking herself in half in the darkness, she was relieved to find that a little moonlight was coming in through one of the windows, shoes blinds hadn't been shut the night before.

The soft sound of Vegeta's breathing let her know that he was still asleep, but the ominous silence made her shudder. She wasn't used to wandering around, alone at night. She glanced to her left, away from Vegeta's silhouette on the couch, to gaze into the shadows of the room beyond. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before reopening them and bending down on both knees to become eye-level with Vegeta's sleeping form. His breathing soon become inaudible and she knew that he must be awake.

"And here you told me not to be a bad boy while your parents were here," he chuckled softly, at barely more than a light whisper. He sounded as awake as he was in the middle of the day, even though Bulma knew she had woke him up by just being there in front of him.

"I can't sleep," she whispered lowly, knowing that he could probably hear her even if she couldn't hear the words come out of her own mouth.

"This couch isn't very big," he replied and she could tell that he was smirking through the darkness. She wondered if his Saiyan abilities included sight that allowed him to see her in the pitch black of the living room of her house at three in the morning.

Despite his previous comment, she listened to him gently shuffle over and pat the tiny bit of open couch-space beside him. Bulma stood and thought for a second.

"I can't sleep here," she said sadly, truly disappointed. "If my parents wake up before me, then they'll know I came down here in the middle of the night."

"They won't wake up before _me_ ," she heard Vegeta say softly. She couldn't help but notice how his arrogance was clearly evident, even when he whispered and she couldn't see his expression in the dark.

But nevertheless, Bulma sat down and positioned herself on the edge of the couch before leaning back and wrapping one arm over her dream boy's chest to keep herself from falling off and either banging her head on the table that was right next to the couch, or hitting the floor. Either way, it would make a loud noise, loud enough to wake her parents up. She didn't mind holding onto Vegeta anyway, so it didn't matter all that much to her what she did.

"This is quite uncomfortable, woman," she heard him say quietly, moving around to make himself more comfortable. It didn't seem to work as she heard him grunt and just lie still in the end.

"Sorry," she whispered calmly, shutting her eyes and trying to get some sleep as she utilized his soft chest muscles as her pillow. It appeared he didn't sleep with a blanket, but Bulma felt warm enough from the radiation of his body heat alone. She was a bit surprised to find that it was warmer next to him than it was under her blanket. And heat rises, she thought, narrowing her eyebrows as if she imagined that she had been lied to whenever whoever told her that spoke the words for her to hear.

And then, as if she hadn't expected it (she rolled her eyes when she felt him move), Vegeta moved to position himself atop of her.

"Well, if you're down here anyway…" he said, trailing off slyly.

"Vegeta," Bulma said halfheartedly, remembering the circles under her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Not tired enough," he quietly replied, running one of his hands along the side of her rib cage and back up again. Bulma knew he must have meant how her body was reacting to being so close to him in the darkness, and then as he put his weight on top of her. But she couldn't help it. She was only a girl, after all. It wasn't like she could stop her feelings from happening when Vegeta was around.

She shivered again when his lips brushed the side of her neck, but it wasn't from the cold.

"What if my parents find out?" she murmured.

"That's true," he said, mocking her, "You do tend to scream my name pretty loud when we do this. Maybe now isn't the best time… Is that what you're saying?"

Bulma pursed her lips before whispering her response. "I just don't think—"

"Your blush is very becoming," he said, purposefully interrupting her, his face coming up. "I can feel it all over you. It's hard to control myself," he breathed. He was mocking her and Bulma could only mentally sigh.

She felt his familiarly cool breath on her face before he gently ran his lips over hers. She couldn't help but let out a low moan as he teasingly nipped at her bottom lip before grabbing her left shoulder with his one hand and sliding the other under the small of her back. She shoved the back of her right hand hard against her mouth as soon as the noise had escaped her lips.

"Ve _ge_ ta," she said, a little harsher than the last time, as if her moan had just proved her point as to why they shouldn't be doing this now.

"Try not to wake your parents up, will you?" he said, mocking her again. Bulma groaned in annoyance, but kept her voice low as usual. "They hate me as it is…"

"They don't _hate_ you, Vegeta," Bulma tried, but he wasn't really listening to her as his hand roamed down her thigh and then circled around to the inside and ran up it, gently, caressing her delicate skin. It prickled where he touched her and left the feeling that his fingers were still there, when they had actually moved on, farther up the inside of her leg.

She moaned and then sharply gasped when he reached the apex and she insistently grabbed for his wrist, tugging on him to tell him to stop. "Vegeta, _no_." She gritted her teeth.

He looked at her. Well, she thought he looked at her through the shadows, but when she had grabbed his wrist to pull him away, he had done so without a second thought. She cursed him for his chivalry now, of all times. Yes, she wanted him, and he wasn't helping by acting that way, but she couldn't have him now. Not with her parents right upstairs. It was killing her, too.

"We can't," she said sorrowfully, "Not now."

She heard him huff and roll off of her, sideways so she wouldn't fall and hit the floor or the table. He kept his arms around her, though, which she enjoyed.

A few minutes passed by and all Bulma could do was listen to Vegeta's light breathing and his heartbeat against her ear, pressed up against him. She felt him lean down after his silence and press his mouth to the top of her head. She listened to him breath in the scent of her freshly showered self and couldn't help but smile. And then she pursed her lips again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hmm," he puffed, nuzzling the top of her head with his lips, "For what?"

"For acting as I did today."

"And which incident exactly are you deciding to apologize for?" he quietly asked and Bulma rolled her eyes, ignoring his sarcasm.

"When my parents first arrived and my father said he was going to make you leave. I don't know what came over me. I don't know why I broke down like that, and I'm kind of embarrassed about it. If I look back on it, I meant every word of it, but I feel so childish about acting that way, especially in front of my parents. I never thought that I would just spill everything out like I did. I was upset, I guess, but it's no excuse."

There was a long pause and for that silent moment, Bulma worried that Vegeta might be angry with her, or upset, or annoyed. She hoped that he wouldn't send her away, back to her cold room. But when he spoke, so quietly and gently, she knew he wasn't angry or upset.

"I feel the same for you as you do for me," he whispered, barely enough so that she could hear what he said.

And it was the closest thing to 'I love you' that she had ever heard come out of his mouth.

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The next morning brought no surprises. Bulma woke up to the familiar sound of her alarm clock beeping and she was in her own bed, the blanket up to her chin. She didn't even remember being moved around, and could only suppose that he parents knew nothing of the previous night other than their own sweet dreams.

She lazily hit the snooze button on her alarm and laid back down closing her eyes. But when she heard the alarm go off again at what seemed like only a few seconds later, Bulma jumped and glanced at the time. It was six fifty-five.

Bulma bolted up and out of bed, quickly rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms into the air as she loudly yawned. She got up and ran a brush through her damp hair. She didn't have the time to blow-dry it this morning. She was still tired and so afraid of those circles under her eyes that she avoided the upstairs bathroom, as well as every mirror that crossed her path as she raced for the kitchen, her head down. She grabbed a piece of toast and threw some jam on it before racing back up the stairs, breakfast shoved down her throat. She wondered why she hadn't met up with Vegeta, but she didn't have time to dwell on it for long as she threw some jeans and a regular red t-shirt on for school and brushed her teeth, unavoidably noticing the same light circles under her eyes that had been there the night prior. She vainly thought that they might have been a little darker than last time.

She pushed her aquamarine locks behind her ears and grabbed her purse and school pack, running, and nearly tripping, back down the stairs. And as she crossed the living room, she saw the spikey hair of her dream boy near to the floor. She walked over to him, still in a rush.

"We have to leave," she said quickly, coming to the conclusion that both her parents must have still been asleep, "What in the world are you doing?" she questioned, noticing red and black wires in his left hand.

When he stood and faced her, he shoved a little black thing that resembled a thin rectangle into one of the pockets of her purse. "Evidence," he said with a humor-less smirk. She didn't get to see them on his face very often, she realized.

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked, trying to dig into the pocket to find what he had placed on her.

He grabbed her elbow and dragged her towards the door, rendering her incapable of reaching the little black rectangle. "It's a tape. Apparently, all those private conversations between your parents yesterday evening were about the moral issues of recording a man while he sleeps."

She heard him growl as he pushed her out the door. Bulma blinked a few times in disbelief. Her parents had actually set up a camera to watch Vegeta during the night…?


	35. Rivalry

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Rivalry**

Bulma sat in her chair in the unheated trailer that served as a classroom. For the first time, both she and Vegeta had managed to get to their seats before the second bell rang, indicating that one minute later, you would be late for the first period class of the day. They hadn't spoken much to one another, mainly because she had taken her small white car and Vegeta, as usual, wanted to take his motorcycle to school, and when she arrived after him, he hadn't been around to meet up with her.

People still stared as she walked by, but she didn't mind as much as she had yesterday. At least they were people she didn't know. If Sharpner or Yamcha or Maron had shown themselves, she didn't know what she would have done, especially in Maron's case. That ditz deserved nothing from her and yet all Bulma could think of was giving her a piece of her mind. She was a genuine, real live bitch, and there was nothing more to it. Maron was a girl who had an absurdly obsessive crush on her man, and she didn't take lightly to that kind of behavior. She would have agreed with it if maybe something inside her told her that Maron was a threat to Vegeta and her relationship, but the simple fact that her dream boy despised the aqua-haired wannabe made the hair on the back of her neck rise and bile come up from her throat. It was unflattering.

The idea that Bulma parents would want so badly to keep Vegeta away from her that they would set up a camera to make sure he didn't go upstairs at night made her wonder whether or not her mother disliked Vegeta as well. She knew it was probably her father's idea to set up the camera, but the fact that both her parents had spoken about it yesterday evening, as Vegeta had said, made her worry that maybe her father was convincing her mother that Vegeta was a crazy lunatic. Her mother was her only excuse as to why Vegeta should stay. If both her parents agreed that he had to go, she didn't know what she would do. The only thing she could think of was that she would go with him, of course. He wouldn't leave her and she was perfectly willing to extend the same courtesy to him if the issue ever came about.

"Alright, class," Mr. Piccolo said, entering the trailer with his usual scowl placed on his lazy expression. "Today, I don't feel like teaching—"

The class entered an uproar of cheer, and Bulma sat patiently, waiting for it to die down so Mr. Piccolo could provide an explanation of some sort, or at least what they were going to do instead of listening to him lecture for forty minutes.

"You're getting on my nerves," he murmured, and Bulma could have sworn that she saw a vein pop on his forehead. It looked like he was tired and annoyed. But that was always the case, wasn't it? Mr. Piccolo was always like this, just not as dramatic as today. "So," he began again, "I have a review worksheet for you. It's due tomorrow… right before your chapter two test."

The class groaned and whined as he passed out the review sheets. Bulma figured that she could just do it at home or another time, and she already knew everything they had gone over, so studying was not necessary.

She turned to Vegeta, thinking that this could be some quality talking time, but she found him scribbling down the answers for the review sheet, apparently absorbed in his own thoughts and work. Bulma sighed and put her hands behind her head, leaning her back against the back of her seat and tilting her head up to glance at the mold-covered ceiling of the inside of the trailer. She scrunched her nose and decided to look at the wall instead. It was white with many stains. It looked very old and not sturdy or durable at all, in any way, shape or form. She pictured an earthquake coming and her being crushed inside or suffocated by the ceiling caving in. She immaturely hoped that the ceiling would knock her out first if it decided to cave in and hit her in the head.

After most of the period was over, Vegeta sat back, mimicking her by placing his hands behind his head and glancing up at the ceiling, making a disgusted noise at what he saw, and then turning to stare at the boring wall.

"You're parents are extremely annoying, woman," he said.

"But they're still my parents, annoying or not," she said, a little offended, but not willing to show it.

"I know they're your parents," he replied, as if speaking with a child. Bulma didn't like his tone, "And they are annoying. That's what I just said."

"Stop insulting them, will you?" Bulma said, placing her hands on her desk and looking at his face. His eyes were closed, but he soon opened them to return her gaze. "I know they can be annoying, but that's because they don't want you in my house. Maybe if you were nicer and a little less like you always are to them, then they wouldn't bother you as much."

"They put a camera on me for when I sleep. I've heard a lot of idiotic things that parents do in my short time on this mud-ball of a planet, but your parents are really starting to annoy me. They didn't as much _before_ they decided to stalk me, but I think they've hit an unknown button on me that really shouldn't have been hit."

"Oh, please," Bulma laughed without humor, "Don't be so noble. It's not like you've been very nice to my father. It's not like you've given my parents any reason to actually like you, or at least think that you aren't a threat to me."

"And what makes you think that I am?" he asked, more irritated than curious.

" _I_ don't, Vegeta. I'm just saying that you can't tell my parents how wonderful you are and how good you are for me, and then act as you do, which is like the complete opposite of what you claim."

"I don't need to explain everything I do to those Earthlings. When have I ever had to explain what I do to anyone?"

"They're not _those Earthlings_ , Vegeta. They're my _parents_. And, well, maybe you should try it every now and again. Bonus points can't hurt at this point."

"At _this point_? I wasn't under the impression that the time that your parents were staying with us was being monitored so closely. Is this a game to you? Do you enjoy telling me what to do?"

"It's not like you listen anyway," she mumbled, putting her head down.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and turned away. It seemed like her last comment had ended the conversation for him. Bulma silently sighed and slumped into her chair in defeat. Why did he always have to argue with her? Why couldn't he just agree and do what was best for everyone?

The bell rang, making Bulma jump and crawl out of her slump. She grabbed her bags and sighed when Vegeta stood, waiting for her. She knew that he had changed ever since that night at the motel, but she didn't know just how deep that change actually went. He used to run away for reasons she still didn't quite know, but now he stayed… Sometimes, at least. Which was better than not at all. And after last night, where his walls had dropped for only a moment…

She stood and adjusted the straps on her right shoulder as they exited the trailer. She glanced around and saw a couple kissing as they went their separate ways for second period, but when she turned back to Vegeta, he was already walking away.

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"I don't know what it is, Chichi," Bulma sighed. "I just feel like he realizes our relationship, but there's still some part of him that wants to stay away from me. I can't even imagine why. He's made it very clear that he would rather stay on Earth than go back to his home planet, but then why does he seem so distant?"

"Don't you know him by now, Bulma?" Chichi said with a reassuring smile. "Vegeta needs time alone for the smallest things. If he's made it _that_ clear that he isn't leaving you, and doesn't want to, then all he's doing is getting some alone time. It _is_ Vegeta, after all. I can just picture him standing in front of a mirror for hours at a time."

Bulma laughed, though she realized that she couldn't picture that. "I hope he's not going emo on me," she joked, but Chichi hadn't found it funny enough to laugh for. "Chichi, am I overreacting?"

"A little," she replied casually, "But it's understandable. Vegeta still drives me crazy sometimes, and I've known him for just about the entire time he's been on Earth. Plus, I've seen a lot less of him now that he's met you. And if I haven't said it before, thanks for that. Less Vegeta is a nicer time when it comes to shoving him in my house with Goku and me." She smiled, and Bulma knew that it could only be because she was thinking of Goku. Her next question was born out of that happy smile.

"Why can I see the happiness in your eyes when you think about Goku, and yet I can't picture being so happy about Vegeta? Your smile almost reached your ears," she laughed, but her face fell, "And, well, I don't really know. I just think that maybe Vegeta regrets what he chose sometimes."

"You mean you?" she asked, her smile turning into an apologetic one. "I doubt it. Goku knows him the best, and from what he's told me, Vegeta feels that you're the best thing that ever happened to him. And if you ever need reassurance of that, then all you have to do is ask Goku or me."

"Wouldn't I go to Vegeta if I feel that way?" she inquired.

"Well, of course. I just meant that if you needed someone to talk to. And God knows that Vegeta isn't always the best choice for conversation. All he ever does is argue."

Bulma laughed. "You can say that again."

"So… How are things going with your parents in the house?"

Bulma didn't feel like lying. "It's been twelve hours and I've already snuck downstairs at night to see him." She rolled her eyes at herself and why in the world she would have done such a thing. "I couldn't sleep, was all," she added, when Chichi lifted a fine eyebrow at her curiously. "Really. I tried to fall asleep, but after four hours of thinking about him, you know, I had no choice, really."

Chichi rolled her eyes and went back to some worksheet that had been lying unattended on the desk in front of her. She picked up her pencil and looked deep in thought for a few moments before she set the pencil down and turned back to Bulma. "You know, I—" she began, before she was interrupted by a small rectangular object swinging in front of her face. "What are you doing?" she asked blatantly, staring at the black object as if she was hypnotized by it.

"This," Bulma said, "is the film from a camera that my parents set up before Vegeta went to sleep. They were making sure he didn't get up to come see me in the middle of the night. What do you think about that?" she asked forcefully, clearly disliking the object as she shoved it back into her purse's outer pocket and crossing her arms as she huffed.

"Are you saying that the tape has you going downstairs to meet Vegeta on it?" Chichi asked, also dumbfounded at what some parents were capable of doing.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," Bulma replied, looking up at the ceiling. It wasn't as stained as her previous classroom's ceiling, but it was dirty nonetheless. "Vegeta kind of threw it at me this morning, and we didn't get the chance to talk about it during first period. I don't know what to do with it either. I don't want my parents to find it, but won't they know if their recorder is missing a piece of the night?"

"Maybe they'll think it just malfunctioned or something," Chichi shrugged. "Besides, if it's harmless, then maybe you should show it to them to prove a point that Vegeta isn't as bad as they think he is." She paused. " _Is_ it harmless, Bulma?"

"Of course!" she said, jumping in her seat, "But it's personal. I don't want them finding it anyway."

"Personal?" she asked, obviously very interested. Bulma sighed, remembering that her raven-haired friend was a gossip girl. "Are you going to _share_?"

"I don't really…"

"Oh, come on! We're friends. It's not like I'm going to go shout your personal moments with Vegeta to the entire school. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Bulma said, glancing sideways at her friend.

"But that means I'm the cat. The phrase says nothing about _you_ getting hurt. And I wouldn't hurt you for my life. You know that. Oh, _please_ share."

"It was barely anything, really," she shrugged, unable to contain the gossip herself. She cursed herself for it, but it wasn't really a secret that couldn't be told, now was it? "I already told you that I went down to see him because I couldn't sleep. I woke him up and laid down next to him. We talked a bit and agreed that we couldn't make a lot of noise with my parents in the house—"

Chichi let out a loud laugh that lasted a few seconds. When she was finished, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and covered her mouth. "Sorry," she quickly said. Bulma rolled her eyes, only assuming that she and Goku, considering that they were the same age as her and Vegeta, knew exactly what she meant by her last words.

"Well…" she continued quietly, now that other people were staring at her, thanks to Chichi's obnoxious laugh. "Then I apologized for letting out what I was feeling from when my parents first arrived. They—"

"You already told me what happened when your parents found you and Vegeta on the side of the road," she said, scurrying Bulma along with her words.

"I know. Don't rush me, will you?" Bulma pouted, folding her arms. "When I apologized, I think some of Vegeta's walls came down…" Chichi sharply breathed in, as if she didn't believe it. "…and he told me that he…"

" _Yes_?"

"He said that what I feel for him is what he feels for me," she whispered, a bit shocked to find that she barely believed it herself.

After a minute or two of silent thinking between the two of them, Chichi smiled and laughed again. "Well, then why are you worrying about him so much? If he said that to you last night, then why the rant about how worried you are that he regrets his decision to love you more than his own planet, his own _home_. I think you should stop worrying so much about him. He clearly cares about you, and that's something I never thought I would get to hear myself say about _Vegeta_ , the arrogant, bastard of a conceited prince from a distant planet who is such an asshole that he hates everyone but himself."

"Wow…" Bulma said, "Do you practice saying that in front of your mirror…?"

Chichi opened her mouth to answer, but the bell rang and she grabbed her things and waved as she walked out of the room for third period.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

It was near the end of fourth period when Bulma sighed after the pregnant teacher had announced that they could have the remaining few minutes of the period to talk. Maron, sitting to Bulma's left, hadn't spoken a single word, and Yamcha was missing from his seat. Bulma wondered if maybe she had no fire in her to start a fight. Maron, the bitchy ditz, having nothing to say at all. It was just as likely as it was for the Earth to crash into the sun.

But all the same, she was glad that nothing bad had happened during class. The last thing she needed was another detention where she actually had to explain herself to her parents enough so that her father wouldn't feel the need to blame her for staying after school to spend some quality time with Vegeta without his permission.

"So," the voice to her left said, clearly with something on her mind. It was about time, Bulma thought, although she couldn't hide that she was hoping for the wannabe to just keep her mouth shut for the rest of the day. The simple fact that her parents were trying to spy on Vegeta put her in a bad mood. Maron's presence hadn't made it better either. And speaking, she could only guess, would make her even worse.

"So, what?" Bulma asked, trying to sound lazy instead of annoyed. It worked out as well as any façade.

"How are things with you and Vegeta?" she asked, pointing over to her ebony-haired prince. Bulma pictured herself strangling the bitch. All she wanted was either Vegeta or revenge, and Bulma was quite aware of that.

"Things are fine," she replied casually, refusing to look her in the eye for fear that she wouldn't be able to control her rage.

"I heard your parents are staying with you now," she added, and Bulma almost started foaming at the mouth. "I heard about it through the line of gossip, you know?" she said, laughing a little and covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Bulma guessed the gossip line had started second period, when some of the students overheard her and Chichi's conversation. "I feel bad for Vegeta, thought. The poor guy wouldn't have to deal with parents that hate him if he would go with someone else. Take me for example," she shrugged. "My parents don't care what I do with boys. If I ask them to leave the house for an afternoon, they know what's going to happen while their gone. The only thing they do is make sure I have enough condoms before they're out the door, and even then, I don't think that they really care what happens. And if you ask me, that's the life when you're in a relationship that's hot and steamy. It doesn't get much better than that. And I can only image that a relationship with Vegeta is _very_ hot and steamy. Don't you think, Bulma?" She put on an innocent-looking face and tilted her head, pushing her bottom lip out as if she were upset about something. She batted her eyelashes and Bulma had to look away.

"I'm right here," Vegeta murmured, leaning back in his chair with his fingers laced through one another on the top of his head. His tone revealed that he couldn't have cared any less about their conversation. Bulma knew him well enough to know when he just wanted to say something. Now couldn't have been a worse time to do it, though.

"Oh, I _know_ , sweetheart. I didn't mean to offend you, darling," Maron said, wiggling her fingers at him behind Bulma's back as she leaned to get a better view of him. Bulma loudly and slowly took a breath and exhaled through her nose so that Maron could hear her frustration. She decided afterwards that it probably wasn't such a great idea, but she couldn't have cared any less.

"That's not very ladylike of you, Bulma," she said with a sly smile.

"Oh, you _think_ so," she spat sarcastically, "Well, so is asking your parents to get out of the house so you can have a sex marathon with some lowlife bastard that's probably going to leave you after he's knocked you up."

Maron gasped, but Bulma could've swore that she had taken it as a compliment by the hidden smile underneath her hand. "Oh, my!" she said, and Bulma knew some stupid remark was coming next by the edge to her voice. "I had no idea you knew what those things were! I guess Vegeta's been teaching you all about it." She leaned back to look at him again and Bulma saw their eyes meet as she spoke. "But I'm sure you explained it _very_ well to little-miss-innocent over here," she said happily with a great big smile plastered on her face.

Bulma snorted in disgust. She could feel her blood boiling and she worried about getting too angry in the classroom. She didn't know what she would do if she was pushed over the edge.

"What?" Maron asked, "You think he's not good enough for you? You need a rampaging stallion to fuck you up all night? Vegeta's the best of the best, and even the ugliest girls in this stupid building know that. But if you think so lowly of his _talents_ , then maybe you should go find someone that strikes your fancy and leave the big boys to the girls who appreciate them. For you, I would recommend someone fat… _like a pig_."

That was it.

Bulma felt her elbow bend and her shoulder went back, and before she knew it, her hand was balled into a fist and it was swinging right at Maron's heavily made-up face. It happened so fast that she didn't have time to stop herself. The expression the bitch was giving her was absolutely priceless, and Bulma realized in that moment that she didn't _want_ to stop her arm. Maron needed to be taught a lesson. The hard way.

But she came to an abrupt halt and felt her shoulder nearly pop out of the joint and her elbow snapped so hard that it cracked as loud as all ten knuckles. It hurt for a moment, but it ended when she looked over her left shoulder to find Vegeta gripping her right elbow from around her left side. She glared at him, but he wasn't looking at her as he covered his mouth with his free hand and quietly yawned.

"Please ignore her, woman," he said. His bored tone made Bulma growl. She had been so close to knocking the teeth out of this bitchy whore. "Your parents won't be too happy if they find out that you got into a fight, or, _excuse me_ , killed someone, over me. I quite enjoy my time on your couch, whatever you may think, and it's much better than sleeping outside, if I may say so."

"My _hero_!" Maron screeched, jumping up and colliding with Vegeta. Bulma watched in horror as she wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her face into his neck. Vegeta's eyes widened, and he looked more shocked than her, and his reaction time must not have been working correctly because he just sat there, a look of pure incredulity on his face. But when Bulma saw Maron's left hand move to tangle her fingers through his ebony spikes and her right hand moved to the front of his lower abdomen, slowly sliding further and further down, Vegeta finally reacted.

His arm swung up in a wide arc to block her infiltrating hand and he must have hit her without holding back his Saiyan strength, because she flew off of him and landed on her back about three yards away. Bulma cursed when her head just barely missed the edge of the black lab table. The sight of Maron's blood would have quelled her fury.

" _Mr. Ouji_!" the pregnant teacher screamed, finally walking back into the room and seeing what he had just done. But Vegeta was already standing, and by the time Bulma looked back over at him, he was out the door and going to God knew where.


	36. A Problem's Arrival

**Chapter Thirty-Five: A Problem's Arrival**

Bulma instantly stood and quickly made her way after him, exiting the classroom in less than ten seconds. She couldn't have cared less about what happened to Maron, or the faces that were staring at her. The only thing that registered in her mind was that Vegeta had gotten out of there as fast as he could manage without giving the impression that he was a different species, although the entire school had to have some idea about it by now anyway.

But Vegeta never ran away from anything. And especially not Maron. And even though he just threw her to the ground, didn't she deserve it after what she did? It wasn't like she didn't have it coming to her.

Bulma looked right, down the empty hallway, and then left, where she found him, pacing back and forth between a classroom door and one of the school's fire exits. She didn't call out to him, but instead slowly and cautiously walked over, making a little extra noise until he saw her coming, although he probably already knew.

"What do you want, woman?" he asked, and Bulma could tell that he was forcing his frustration-induced loud tone down his throat as he spoke.

"That was…" She paused for a moment, " _great_ ," she decided to say. Vegeta stopped pacing and looked at her as if he should have expected her to say such a thing, but he hadn't and it almost took him by surprise. Almost.

"Yes. I'm sure it was very enjoyable for you," he said, rolling his eyes and starting to pace again.

"Why are you out here?" she asked. "Why did you leave like that?"

He didn't answer her right away. Instead, he stopped pacing once again and walked toward her. He stopped not three inches from her and sighed. He shrugged, and Bulma guessed that that was the only answer she was going to get out of him for her question. She remembered Chichi's words that Vegeta had to deal with most of his problems on his own because he wouldn't accept help from anyone else. She wished she could change that so he would let her help, but she knew that it was near to impossible for Vegeta to change his mind.

She knew to expect it when he leaned forward, grabbing her by the shoulders, and pressed his lips upon hers. But just as she wrapped her arms around his neck in reply, the bell rang. Bulma tried to pull away as classroom doors all around them opened and students surrounded them, but he kept their lips locked as the other student began to stare.

"Vegeta," Bulma almost shouted against his lips, "The bell rang. We have to go," she rushed, trying not to let anyone around her see how red her face was getting.

"On a scale of one to ten, woman, how much do you think I care?" he asked, but after kissing her one last time, he released her shoulders and backed off. The people around them continued to stare, but some of them began to move along and murmur rumors to one another. Bulma felt her face heating up in sheer embarrassment.

"I'm going to get you back, Bulma!" a shrill voice suddenly called from down the hallway, "And I _hate_ you, Vegeta! I _cared_ about you! How could you _do_ this to me?! I hate you more than _anyone_!"

"Music to my ears," Vegeta mumbled, rolling his eyes as he turned.

Bulma turned as well to find none other than Maron, screaming, with a nose bleed trailing blood down the right side of her lower face. It dripped off her chin, and onto the floor with a splatter, staining her designer shoes. Bulma almost flinched, and she would have if it hadn't been Maron.

She heard Vegeta chuckle at the sight of the bitch's messed-up face, so Bulma turned to face him and replied with a bored tone, "Zero."

He shrugged as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

After a long day of school, Chichi opened her window for a cool breath of fresh air, and plopped down on her bed. She sighed and stretched her arms out, after having to carry that damn heavy backpack around everywhere. She knew she was going to sprain her shoulder someday with so many books and so much assigned homework all the time. The only thing she had to look forward to was the weekend. Well, that and of course, Goku…

"Phew!" the familiar innocent sigh of her Saiyan boyfriend always put her heart at ease and made it speed up at the same time. She loved Goku with all her heart, and she knew that she would love him forever if such a thing were possible for Earthlings and Saiyans. But she was still eternally grateful for the time she had with him and the time she would have with him in their future together. "Chichi! What are you making for dinner?" he called up the stairs, and Chichi purposefully didn't reply, knowing that he would come up to see her if she didn't make a sound in response to his question.

And just as predicted, she heard the footsteps of him coming up the stairs. "Chichi? Did you hear me?"

"No," she lied, "What did you say? I'm sorry."

"I asked what's for dinner," he repeated. "Don't you have any plans?"

"I wasn't thinking about it actually," she said. Although she didn't admit that pizza crossed her mind because she was feeling a little lazier than usual. "Did you have anything in mind?"

It was always the same conversation, every day, but Chichi never got tired of it. In fact, she even looked forward to it sometimes. She was alone with Goku a lot now that Vegeta had moved in with Bulma and, God help them, her parents. So, she was looking forward to other conversations with him, as well…

When Vegeta stayed with them, since he was a Saiyan, he always knew what was going on, when it was going on, and pretty much everything there was to know about it at the time. And the worst part was that he would bring it up, just because he knew it was embarrassing for her. Goku sometimes talked like he was proud as a response to Vegeta's mocking, but Chichi knew he just didn't understand the fact that his prince was being a jerk-off.

Now, it was all peace and quiet, and Chichi knew that Vegeta earlier mocking was probably because he was jealous of Goku, but now he had a woman of his own, and he had nothing to complain about anymore. Whether he liked it or not, Chichi knew him better than she should. It was partially Goku's fault for talking so highly of his companion all the time when she first met him, but now she could understand him and the things he did. And she knew it was only a matter of time before Bulma understood the same Vegeta that she did. He couldn't hide his thoughts from a woman, especially one like Bulma, whom he was attempting to become close with. And as far as she could see, they were becoming very close, even if they didn't know it just yet.

"I was thinking fish, actually," Goku said thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling as he fell backwards onto her bed, spreading his arms out and yawning.

"Tired?" Chichi asked, but he shook his head as he continued to yawn. "Fish, huh? I can do that, I guess."

Goku smiled his trademark smile and Chichi couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. He was so adorable when he did that. She was so in love with him…

"What are _you_ staring at?" he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully, and Chichi could no longer help herself. She swung a leg over his left side and landed on top of him, lowering her head to his so their lips could lock. She swiped her tongue over his bottom lip and erotically listened to him groan as he kissed her back with force, wrapping his thick-muscled arms around her and holding her close.

Chichi felt the fresh, crisp air from the open window come down around her neck and the side of her face. She shivered and allowed her body to continue to try and get closer and closer to Goku and his sweet, sweet warmth. His face was less than an inch from hers and she reached behind to lock her fingers with his on their right hands. She moved so that her eyelashes stroked his cheek and she leaned up to graze her lips across his forehead before planting a small kiss there.

Goku could feel his heat beginning to rise. He was enveloped in sweetness. A flood of sensations flooded his entrails and he could feel himself getting hotter and hotter.

"I love you, Goku," Chichi whispered, and he listened closely to her imploring voice. Though it was a small, feminine voice, he knew it and loved it with all his heart. And as she kissed him again, lovingly, he inhaled her magnificent perfume. The stroking of her hair against his face and neck sent shameless chills down his spine.

He turned his head and stroked his lips against her cheek, feeling the full length of her body stretch out against him. He put his movements on pause when he felt her taking off her clothes and tossing them idly to the floor behind her. Goku quickly did the same and threw his across the room as the repositioned themselves to lie flat against the length of the bed instead of hanging off the one side of it.

Goku wantonly felt the swell of Chichi's breasts against his bare flesh as he pushed up against her, wanting no room between them. It certainly was nice to have Vegeta gone after all this time. No interruptions. It was certainly a first, but it wasn't as if they hadn't taken advantage of their alone time beforehand. Now was just another wonderful use of their free time together.

The smooth length of Chichi's thigh brushed up against the side of his leg as she lay atop him. Her tongue touched his lips and she licked at his lips delicately, feeling him smile below her.

Goku was unashamedly immobilized by the chills that shot through him, kindling the passion that now burned inside of him. He didn't want to stop the slow smolder that had caught hold in his thighs and cock. He didn't want to stop the rapturous sensations that were passing over his shoulders and down his back and even through his legs.

Chichi's eyes glowed above him, the light flicker of her lashes more a sensation that a sight. Her lips closed over his once more and he let his body take control of his mind as he sucked on her bottom lip, caressing it with his tongue and grunting when she moaned. He sucked at her mouth, teasing it, listening to her moan and purr in pleasure.

Her skin, which had always looked so porcelain in his eyes, was far from the stiff material. Hers was smooth and plush, and soft like down feathers. Now, it was hot, as if on fire. And it only proved to make the fire inside of him grow even stronger. The heat of her tongue shot into his lips once more, with a wet, delicious and vehement force. It took him so by surprise that he fell, helpless from his own hot desire. He couldn't help but conduct the fire that she poured into his mouth.

Chichi drew her tongue back and sucked with her lips again. Goku felt his entire face tingling as his limbs wound up and around her. He wanted to embrace her so badly. He wanted to take her so badly.

Chichi smiled as she lay against the evidence of his desire, it was impossible to hide, and stroked his chest caringly. She lifted her head up, letting her fair, beautiful black hair fall around his face, and then dipped her head, kissing him, her hair ensnaring him before she pulled back to stare into his eyes for a swift moment.

Goku watched her smile with her striking, eager eyes. They were demanding, and he knew his desires would soon be satisfied. She climbed upon his chest and rode him, looking down at him with exquisite smiling lips. She rocked back and forth, faster and faster, harder and harder, rubbing against the confirmation of his passion and lust as it tightened and pushed itself against her in reply. Chichi then parted her legs for him to enter her.

It seemed an emotional amalgamation of elements, the wet, contracting, private pocket between her legs, reserved exclusively for him and him only, and the plethora of silent expressiveness between the two of them. When the orgasm hit, it hit hard. Chichi let out a livid scream, unashamed. She was fully enjoying the fact that they were utterly and completely alone for a mile each way around. There was no one, and she was going to scream Goku's name so loudly that he would be partially deaf for weeks. His own grunts and groans came louder than usual as if in reply, and when it gently subsided, she fell like a dead weight on top of him, panting and breathing heavily. She felt like she had just completed a marathon run or a mile-long sprint. She was exhausted, and all she wanted now was to lay in Goku's arms for as long as he would let her.

But he pushed her off sooner than she would have liked, and his rushed expression as he threw on his clothes made her worry.

"Goku? What is it?" she asked, sitting up and holding the sheets to her breasts, "What's wrong?"

"Someone's here," he said quickly, throwing his shirt over his head as his final piece of clothing and racing down the stairs. "And I think I know who it is."

Chichi noticed that he sounded worried. She frowned. "Vegeta," she said ultimately. "What could he possibly want now that he couldn't have asked for when we were at school?" She folded her arms as she jumped out of bed, rubbing her aching muscles. She had gotten used to being sore all over after making love to Goku. It was practically expected now. She privately wondered whether or not Bulma and Vegeta had such violent sessions yet.

She threw on new clothes and raced down the stairs after Goku. She noticed that the door was open. She walked over and pulled it open all the way, standing next to Goku. She couldn't see his expression.

"What the hell do you want, now, Ve—"

But it wasn't Vegeta at all.

"Kakarot. Good to see you well," the man said. He looked to be about in his late thirties. But the thing that made Chichi freeze was the fact that the man had called Goku _Kakarot_. Vegeta said he was the only one who called him that because it was his Saiyan name, given to him at birth. How did this man know that?

Then the man's eyes travelled down to Chichi and she felt Goku tense beside her. It made her more nervous than anything. Nothing on this planet made a Saiyan tense. Vegeta might have made up that quote, but Goku had definitely agreed to it. "And I see you've taken a mate on this filthy planet as well. Master Frieza will be happy to know how well you've been treating yourself."

Chichi worriedly looked at Goku. She knew exactly who Frieza was. She had been told so many times by both Goku and Vegeta that she could even envision the horrible monster in her head.

Goku returned her gaze with what Chichi thought she saw was a gulp and some tension. "Chichi," he said, holding out his hand in the direction of the stranger, "This is Bardock… my father."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma stepped out of her car and greeted Vegeta, waiting against the back door of her house, as usual when they came home after school. She wondered how much hope she would have in convincing him to drive slower. Considering the last time she had tried to compete with him and his motorcycle, she dismissed the thought and unlocked the door.

Vegeta grabbed her arm and spun her around, pecking her on the lips and stepping in front of her to enter the house first.

"Ladies first?" she commented, trying her best to sound offended at his rudeness.

"Your parents seem to be angry with me. I didn't want to put you in the middle of it," he said with a mocking smirk, as if it was going to be fun. Bulma rolled his eyes and followed him into the laundry room.

When she shut the door behind them and smelled the slightly familiar scent of her mother's cooking, Bulma realize that her father was standing directly in front of Vegeta now, his face as red as a tomato.

" _Out_!" he screamed, and Bulma covered her ears, not expecting the loud noise so suddenly. " _Get out_!"

"What's going on?" Bulma asked, walking up to him and trying to remain calm. "What did Vegeta do wrong?"

"I just received a phone call that described how your beloved boyfriend hit a girl today in school! I will not have my daughter going out with a boy who thinks he can walk around hitting girls! I want him out, and I want him out _NOW_!" he bellowed furiously.

"Dad, please. Don't send him away," Bulma said.

"Get out, you bastard!" her father screamed again, pointing to the door over Bulma, ignoring her.

"Dad!" Bulma yelled, trying to get his attention.

"Don't give me the stupid " _I love him_ " bullshit, Bulma!" he snarled, and Bulma heard her mother gasp from the kitchen. " _You've_ got some explaining to do as well!" He held up a small black rectangle that Bulma was afraid to look at. She knew it was the tape. "A pleasant young girl name Maron dropped this off here at about twelve this morning. She told me that she was just physically assaulted by this _boyfriend_ of yours, here. And she wanted to tell me that she's _worried about you_! She told me the _teachers_ are worried about you! _Bulma_ , you _need_ to get out of this relationship before I feel the need to _kill_ this young man. And God help me, _I swear I will_!"

Bulma didn't know what came over her, but she knew she was crying as soon as the tears stung the back of her eyes. She couldn't stop them from falling when they did.

"Oh, don't give me this _pity act_ , Bulma! Don't think crying is going to help you, now. I know this boy isn't good for you, and you're going to _thank_ me when you're _older_! _Goddamn it, Bulma_! Why couldn't you figure this out on your _own_?! I thought your mother and I raised you to be _smarter_ than _this_!"

Bulma cursed herself when she heard herself sobbing and sniffling. Her eyes were glued to the ground in front of her. She was so upset, and she hardly knew what her mind was doing when her tears flowed like rivers and her sadness turned into white-hot anger. She whipped around and grabbed Vegeta by the collar of his shirt. He seemed genuinely shocked when she pulled him after her, out the back door, but she couldn't have cared any less.

"Where do you think you're _going_ , Bulma?!" Her father hollered. "Don't turn your back on me! And you're not going _anywhere_ with that man if I have anything to say about it!"

When she heard her father's loud, angry footsteps following her, she turned around and looked at Vegeta, not caring if she was crying as her face contorted in anger. "Stop him, Vegeta," she commanded, and was actually a bit taken aback when he gently pulled her clenched fist away from his collar and turned around, blocking her father's view of his only daughter.

"Get _out_ of my way, you _filthy_ —"

"You know, I may not have been born on this planet, from Earthling parents, but I thought I understood what it meant. I thought I'd lived here long enough to understand what a family meant to you Earthlings… I guess I thought wrong."

And then he turned without another word, gently holding onto Bulma as she stumbled out the door.


	37. The Problem Becomes a Problem

**Chapter Thirty-Six: The Problem Becomes a Problem**

It was a dark night. No stars could be seen in the black sky and the moon was nowhere to be found. Bulma would have assumed that the tree tops were blocking the view of the sky, but when they reached an opening, she knew it couldn't be. It had to be that it was just a darker night than she was used to. And she didn't remember the last time she had been outside so late at night anyway.

Bulma closed her mouth every time a breeze blew past so she wouldn't be able to listen to her own teeth chattering against one another. The sound only proved to make her colder, so she tried her best to ignore it.

Vegeta, on the other hand, was perched in a tree above her. She wondered if he was just acting tough, and was actually as cold as she was, or if something about his bloodline gave him the ability to stand cold weather better than she could. He had complained to her about having to sleep outside in the cold, but now that he was here, he seemed to have nothing to complain about. Maybe it was just his pride, as usual.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she had skipped out on dinner. She thought about her parents and what they did after she was gone. Her father probably thought that she would come back. She hoped he wouldn't call the cops and send them out looking for her to bring her back home. She didn't care if it was cold and the wind was picking up speed, carrying away all her warmth. She would rather be outside in the middle of the cold night, with Vegeta, than back at home without him.

"Are you hungry?" Vegeta asked from directly to her left. Bulma jumped and turned to him, not having heard a sound that resembled that of a person jumping off of a ten foot-high branch. She figured it wasn't worth lying to him after her stomach had growled so loudly at her, and considering the fact that he already knew what her body did, and desired.

"A little," she admitted, and then added, "We should go to Chichi and Goku's house," she said, but Vegeta only crossed his arms. Bulma could barely see anything other than his shadowed silhouette. It gave him a mysterious aura. She liked it.

"It's almost an hour's walk from here…" he trailed off, and then said with finality, as if remembering something important, "No."

Bulma tilted her head, but thought that he probably just didn't want to have to deal with them right now. It seemed unoriginal, considering who she was speaking to.

Then, for politeness, she added, "I agree, actually… After thinking about it, I think I just want to stay here tonight… with you… if you don't mind, of course…" She felt awkward, speaking to him like that, but she was cold, tired and hungry. She knew he would do whatever he could to make her more comfortable. She felt a bit bad.

And then she saw a flicker of light. She jumped back in shock and confusion. "What was that?" she breathed, putting a hand to her chest to find that her heart had sped up more than it really should have.

"Me," came Vegeta's reply, and she saw another quick flash of light. "We _are_ in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. It shouldn't draw any attention."

"What shouldn't draw any attention?" Bulma asked.

"Kakarot told me that he explained what we are to you. That that was how you found out."

"That's right," Bulma said, shutting her mouth and clenching her teeth as another breeze came by. By the time she was finished holding her teeth still, her jaw hurt something fierce. In the next moment, Vegeta's arms were around her, and she instantly felt protected, warmer, like no amount of wind could hurt her now that Vegeta was there to protect her. She felt like a little girl in a fairy tale with those thoughts on her mind. Not to mention the butterflies flapping their wings against the inside of his ribcage.

"He explained what the Super Saiyans are, didn't he?" he asked, and Bulma nodded against the bottom of his neck. She gathered her hands just below his collarbone for the warmth of his heart. He jumped when she touched his bare skin beneath the collar of his shirt with the tips of her cold fingers. "I was planning on showing you what happens when I increase my power level, become a Super Saiyan."

"Goku said you turn into a blonde and your eyes become green," Bulma said, almost giggling at the words that came out of her mouth. But she knew better than to not expect the unexpected when it came to Saiyans.

"Teal, actually," he said, and she knew he was toying with her. "Not many Saiyans can do what Kakarot and I can do. But I wouldn't want to show it to this entire planet."

"I guess I can understand why," Bulma nodded, using her nod as a purposeful way to nuzzle closer to him, to get at his warmth. "You've never shown it to me before, though. Should I be honored?"

"Quite," he chuckled, and she saw another flicker of light. Then came a dim, faint light. And just after the world was devoured in the pitch black of the night for a moment that seemed to last forever, a bright flash emanated and persisted from what Bulma could have only described as Vegeta's skin, stinging her eyes and lighting up the woods all around her. She shut her eyes and turned her head away from the bright light.

"Hey," she said with a small smile and slow realization, "You're _warm_." She removed her hands from his collarbone and wrapped them around him, pulling him hard against her. He felt like a fire that couldn't burn her, and it was wonderful after dealing with Mother Nature's harsh fall weather for a few hours beforehand.

"There's one problem down," he said with a smirk. Bulma squinted her eyes in the light and looked up at him. He laughed when her eyes began to water and she had to shut them again. "Now all you need is food and rest, but I doubt you'll find any food out here…"

"Mmm, I'm fine right here. Thanks anyway," she said with another smile, burying her face into his chest and tightening her arm-hold around him. She didn't care that he probably couldn't have felt the difference, or the fact that she probably failed at moving him even slightly. To hold him as tightly as she could manage was what made her smile. And the simple fact that he didn't push her away. She hardly expected it anymore, but it still felt nice that he didn't mind her attempting to squeeze the life out of him.

Her stomach growling again made Vegeta frown. "So all that truly remains is rest," he said, nonetheless, lifting her off the ground and taking her in his arms. He flew up into the air, Bulma knew, from the wind that hit her in the face, brushing her hair around her neck to fall below her, exposing her ears to the wind. She felt Vegeta sit down on what she could only assume was a branch and wrap his arms delicately around her again, this time, positioning himself so that she wouldn't fall.

Bulma didn't realize how tired she was until she was actually laying down, horizontally, and her eyes were slowly shutting, her lids getting heavier and heavier as mere seconds passed by. And soon, despite the bright light coming from Vegeta, his gorgeous ebony spikes now doused in shining gold, and his once piercing onyx eyes now teal, soft and easy to gaze into without feeling that she was being pushed away, she let the silent darkness of the night consume her.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

After inviting their unexpected guest inside and having an awkwardly silent dinner with the man, Chichi and Goku had retreated upstairs. It was almost eleven o'clock at night and they really hadn't spoken all that much with the man, Goku's father, Bardock. Chichi hadn't been able to catch Goku alone until many hours after Bardock had arrived.

"What does he want?" Chichi asked, although she already knew the answer.

"He's checking up on Vegeta and my mission. He probably understands that we've chosen not to complete it already, though. My father is a smart man."

"Other than the fact that he follows orders from Frieza," Chichi spat, but then regretted it. Bardock, threat or not to her, was still Goku's father. It was funny how she realized that she never planned on ever meeting him, and now he just showed up in the middle of the day, and decided to stay over through the night as well. It was unexpected as was it frightening.

"I'm surprised Vegeta didn't stop by. My father can't conceal his power level, and he hasn't even been trying to, so Vegeta must have felt his presence hours ago, probably just after he and Bulma arrived at her house."

"Do you think he's alright?" Chichi asked, thinking that he would have wanted to see why one of the Saiyans, especially Goku's father, was visiting this planet after all this time. After all, Vegeta was the prince of the Saiyans. Didn't that mean he had some sort of control over Bardock? Or was Frieza in complete control? Maybe Vegeta just didn't know. It _had_ been over five years since Goku and Vegeta arrived. Maybe some changes were made back on their planet after their prince had been gone for so long that the two of them wouldn't have been made aware of.

Goku waved his hand in the air to dismiss the question. "Only my father is here, on Earth. Vegeta's in no trouble. If he had trouble with an _Earthling_ … well, it wouldn't last long, for one."

Chichi nodded, trying to go along with his humor. She was already upset because their uninvited guest had interrupted her and Goku's alone time, and she didn't know when she would be able to have more time alone with him. It didn't look like it would be anytime soon, and she could feel her need for him after their abruptly paused previous session. And she knew Goku had felt her desire, and was probably feeling the same way.

She sighed. It wasn't like she could just kick out Goku's father anyway, so she tried her best to redirect her thoughts at all times. It would alleviate her stress, even if only a little.

"Wait," Goku said quickly. "I think he's here."

"Vegeta?" Chichi asked, taken by surprise.

"Yeah. He'll be at the front door in a couple seconds and I doubt he'll knock, seeing as I'm here."

"Can your father sense him?" she asked, a little worried. "And is Bulma with him, too?"

"For your first question, the answer is no. Vegeta and I had a lot of time to train while we were here, when we first came to Earth. We found out that we can detect life signals, energies. I've never heard of other Saiyans being able to do it before. And it's simple, so if everyone else knew about it, it would have become mandatory for young Saiyans to learn the technique a few years after birth. And as for the second question, the answer is yes. But I think she's asleep. All her life signs, like her pulse and blood pressure are quite normal. And usually, when she's around Vegeta, they go kind of haywire. So I can only assume that she's asleep. Not knocked out, otherwise her heart rate would have dropped."

"I get the point," Chichi whispered quickly, not quite interrupting him as she had meant to do, seeing as her Saiyan beau was finished speaking anyway. "Should we go downstairs to meet him?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have thought that he would bring Bulma here, but he may have changed his mind, seeing as you're here, and my father has already understood that you are my mate." Chichi blushed. "Even though it could be dangerous, Vegeta is still the Saiyan Prince. He has authority, not to mention power and ability, over my father. He wouldn't dare attack or even threaten us, especially when they're two of us and one of him. All we have to do is make sure Frieza doesn't feel the need to start sending troops to complete our mission. Otherwise, we're going to have a lot of fighting and possibly Earthling deaths on our hands. No matter how powerful Vegeta and I are, we can't be in more than one place at one time each. It would be impossible to defend ever Earthling on this planet, eve with my Instant Transmission. It would be a losing battle from the start. And if Frieza knows that you and Bulma have been taken as our mates, then he'll already know how to beat us. Don't you see how important it is that we don't let my father leave, knowing all of this?"

"Of course."

"Vegeta's at the door," he said, looking up and over at the stairs. "I'll go get him and Bulma. He probably brought her here because she was cold. It's almost fifteen degrees outside and there's a strong wind picking up around here. I can hear it."

"So can I," Chichi said, a bit surprised at the fact that she could hear something that Goku could, even if it was the wind against her house that she heard almost every other night. It just seemed out of place, considering Goku's superhuman Saiyan abilities versus her pathetic-in-comparison Earthling senses.

Goku quietly made his way down the stairs and to the front door. Bardock was in the kitchen, but he would hear the door opening and closing, so Goku decided to play it safe and use his Instant Transmission technique to get Vegeta and Bulma inside the house. He knew that the last thing they needed was for his father to see Vegeta, the prince of their entire species and planet, caring for Bulma.

"What took you so long?" Vegeta hissed as Goku appeared at his side, on the opposite side of the front door to Chichi's home. In his arms was a sleeping Bulma. Her lips were a light blue and Goku decided to shrug off Vegeta's behavior for his concern for her well-being. He didn't miss the fact that he had turned into a Super Saiyan, either. It was lucky that Bardock couldn't sense power levels, even if only a little, because Vegeta was currently radiating a ton of energy. Goku knew that it was for the small amount of warmth for Bulma that he had changed. Neither of them had changed for almost a full two or three years now, because they never had a need for it. The changes in the couple years before that were from when they would fight with one another about destroying Earth's population of Earthlings and completing their mission. Clearly, Goku had won most of those battles.

Goku smiled in his chagrin and sheepishly replied, "Oh, come on, Vegeta. You've only been here for a few seconds. I'm going to bring us upstairs because of my father. I wasn't sure if you wanted him to see you and Bulma, or just you."

"Obviously not, Kakarot. Otherwise, I would have knocked down your door for taking so long."

Goku chuckled, but swiftly brought them upstairs by placing a hand on Vegeta's shoulder and using the Instant Transmission once more.

"Is she alright?" Chichi asked suddenly, seeing Bulma asleep with a pale face, pink cheeks, and light blue lips. She looked far from okay to Vegeta, but she would heal by the time she woke up the next morning. "And what's going on? Vegeta, it's almost midnight. Why in the world are you two outside?"

"She fought with her parents and decided that she didn't want to be with them any longer. She asked me to go with her, so I did. But I doubted that she would survive the night, especially with these winds."

"Same to you," Goku added, pointing to him as if there was something wrong with the way he looked. Chichi frowned. She knew that extremely high and low temperatures had the same harmful effects on a Saiyan than it did on her and Bulma, but wondered why Vegeta wasn't shivering or pale, like the fragile form in his arms. Chichi could only guess that it had something to do with the fact that he had changed into a Super Saiyan.

Vegeta set Bulma down onto Chichi's bed and turned back to face Goku.

"Shall we deal with your father then, Kakarot?" he asked sarcastically.

Goku nodded and motioned for Chichi to stay upstairs while the Saiyans spoke with one other downstairs. Chichi felt like a child, but she watched them make their way downstairs and head for the kitchen, where they would see Bardock.

And as soon as Bardock saw Vegeta, he slowly got down on one knee and lowered his head.

"My Prince," he said, and Vegeta smirked. It had certainly been a long time since he saw someone do that. He liked it, too. It was a small taste of home from this awful reminder. He didn't want to go back, and most of him didn't even want to think about his home planet. Bardock's being here only made him quite angry and slightly diverted.

"Get up," he ordered forcibly, and Bardock stood. "I don't want to hear your filthy voice any more than I have to. What are you doing here? Did Freiza send you here?"

"No, sir," Bardock replied, glancing past Vegeta's right shoulder to his son, standing behind the Saiyan prince like the ever-faithful partner that he always was to his companion. "Master Cell ordered me to check up on your progress. He said he understands when you wish to enjoy yourself on you purging missions, but he says that you have taken long enough. There is an urgent matter on your planet that requires attention."

Bardock seemed frightened by the words that came out of his own mouth. Every Saiyan knew that Vegeta had a nasty temper and was easily set off by things he didn't like.

"Have you or Cell spoken with my father about you coming here?" Vegeta asked, and Bardock apparently didn't like the mention of the King. His face twisted a little and Vegeta frowned, clearly disliking the response.

"No, sir," Bardock said again, something unreadable in his expression. Vegeta frowned at whatever it could possibly mean. "His Majesty the King never required of us to tell him of each and every mission we are sent on by our three rulers…"

"Why are you here?" he asked, making it clear that he didn't like to repeat himself. Bardock straightened his back in his own defense.

"I am on important business for Master Cell. Master Frieza, as you may have guessed, brought up this mission and its delayed completion. Master Cell was the one who sent me to find out what was taking so long. He expects you back on Planet Vegeta very soon, sir."

"Does Cell or Frieza find us _incapable_ of completing this assignment? And I will return when I wish it!" Vegeta angrily said, but Goku placed a hand on his shoulder. When Vegeta whipped his head around to glare at him, Goku just shook his head in silent warning. Vegeta understood. They couldn't just keep saying that it would get done, and that it was only a matter of time. But frankly, Vegeta didn't know about any other options at that point. There had been nothing else to say.

"Of course not, sir," Bardock said quickly.

"Good. Now, why have you been hesitant about my father? Is there a reason for that putrid expression on your face when I brought up King Vegeta? And don't even think about lying to me, or I'll kill you where you stand."

Goku silently sighed. Although Vegeta had been far from home for the past five years, he still knew how to handle his underlings with the utmost priority and authority. He hadn't lost any of his ability to take control when needed.

"My Prince, I…" Bardock paused and Vegeta snarled at him, "I have horrible news concerning His Majesty. I'm sorry for my expression beforehand, I just thought you knew, but I guess since you were gone from Planet Vegeta for so long…"

"Stop rambling and tell me, Bardock," Vegeta said, clenching his teeth. He found it strange how he was angry at this lowly Saiyan male warrior, and his mind could do nothing but concentrate on the aqua-haired female's energy almost directly above him. It also seemed like he couldn't stay very angry for long with her energy signal so close and him being so focused on it.

"Master Frieza… He accused you of betrayal because of this delay almost a year ago. His Majesty took such an open claim as a threat to his throne and his bloodline. There was a quarrel. No one really knows about it. But, His Majesty was killed by Master Frieza. Master Cell and Master Buu agreed to allow him control of Planet Vegeta for the time being… seeing as you were gone…"

" _What_ …?"

"But only until you return to claim the throne for yourself, of course."

Vegeta stared at Bardock for what seemed like hours. He knew it had to be longer than was comfortable when the man started to fidget under his gaze. "My father… is dead?" he asked.

"Y… Your planet awaits your arrival… Master Cell's true purpose was not to check on your progress, and Master Frieza believes he sits on your throne. It was to tell you of this misfortune. Master Cell and Master Buu have sent me here on an order. Their message was a command to return to your planet and take back the throne…" He got down on one knee again, seeing as Vegeta wasn't pleased with his message. "My King."


	38. A Lie and a Truth

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Lie and a Truth**

Bulma woke up to the sound of yelling and glanced around. She was in Chichi's room, and at first, she didn't think anything of it. She lazily swung her legs over the edge of the bed and listened to the sounds that were coming from downstairs. One of the yellers was Vegeta. His loud, masculine voice was impossible for her not to recognize right away. The other person had to be Chichi, since it was such a high-pitched screech that only the raven could hit in her anger.

Bulma looked across the room and saw that it was still relatively dark outside, but the clock showed that it was just before six in the morning. The sun would be shining through the window in about ten or fifteen minutes. The darkness was deceptive.

"Awake?" a voice asked, and Bulma's heart jumped into her throat as her hand came to the base of her neck in shock. She turned with a sharp inhale to find Goku, in the doorway, with an apologetic expression on his face. "Oh, sorry about that," he added. "I didn't mean to make you jump. I thought you heard me come in."

"Don't worry about it. I'm a naturally jumpy person." She mentally rolled her eyes at her own lame response to try and make Goku feel better. He looked to be unoffended, so she sat quietly on the bed, waiting for him to break the awkward silence between them.

"I knew they were going to wake you up eventually. I tried to tell them to stop, but I guess they didn't hear me."

"It's fine. I wanted to get up around this time anyway. I need to take a shower and now I have time for it. School is such a bother sometimes." Then, Bulma realized, fully, that she was in Chichi's bedroom. "How did I get here?" she suddenly asked, as if she had been teleported in the middle of their conversation.

"Huh? Vegeta brought you here," Goku replied, and then nodded to himself, "Oh, that's right. You were asleep. I forgot. He said it was too cold outside, so he came here so you wouldn't get sick. And just between the two of us, he was probably freezing his ass off, too," he laughed. Bulma giggled at the fact that his eyes squeezed shut when he laughed because his smile was so big. "Besides, what would you expect? He does care about you, so you couldn't have really thought that he'd leave you outside in the cold, even if he was with you, right?"

Goku laughed again, but Bulma couldn't find his expression comforting in the least. Why could Goku say such a thing about Vegeta and she couldn't even figure out what he was thinking? Did he really know him that much better than she did? It made her feel unimportant. Yes, she cared about Vegeta. And yes, she knew that he cared about her as well. But it hadn't even crossed her mind that he would bring her someplace warm after she fell asleep. And it wasn't as if she hadn't been cold, even with the extra warmth from his energy, because the wind had whipped all the warmth away from her body. But that Vegeta would do something about it never crossed her mind made her scrunch her face up. The only thing her mind would register was that he cared more for her than she realized.

But then, did that make her a bad girlfriend? Not every one of her thoughts focused around what was best for Vegeta, but every time she turned around, he was secretly and discreetly doing something for her, whether she liked it or not. She shrugged it off and decided that she would try and be more caring and understanding towards him, but she never truly knew what he wanted from her. She just seemed to please him by doing what she did best: which was just being herself. But adding a little extra couldn't hurt.

"What's on your mind?" Goku asked, and Bulma quickly racked her brain for something that could have been on her mind so she wouldn't have to share her thoughts.

"What are they fighting about down there?" she finally asked, "They're pretty loud for six in the morning, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Goku chuckled, "And for five in the morning, and for _four_ in the morning, and for _three_ in the morning… You know, I'm surprised it took you so long to get up through all of that. Chichi can get pretty damn loud, especially when she's arguing with _Vegeta_."

"What are they fighting about?" Bulma repeated, seeing as he was getting off topic.

"Oh, you don't know…" he said quietly.

"I don't know what?"

"Well… I don't know if it's my place to tell you…"

"Oh, come on, Goku. You were the one who told me all about the Saiyans and Vegeta and your planet and all that. You can't keep any more secrets from me," she said with a puppy-dog smile.

"Well, don't go shouting that you know, okay?" he said, and she nodded as he walked over to sit next to her on the bed. "Yesterday," he began, "Chichi and I got a visitor here… it was my father, from Planet Vegeta… Vegeta's and my home planet."

"Another Saiyan?" Bulma asked, excited and hooked, but a bit worried as well.

"Yeah. He came here to deliver a message, disguised as a reason to check up on our progress on our purging mission for Earth." Bulma sat speechless. "Don't worry about that part. Since the main objective was to deliver the message, our mission and its details weren't looked into. But the message is why they're arguing in the kitchen."

"What was it?" Bulma asked, placing her hands on her knees. She was fully awake, and all her sleepiness had gone away from the rousing yet troublesome news.

"Well… Vegeta is the prince of our planet. You know that right?" he asked, and Bulma nodded, dismissing the fact that she knew he was dancing around the point. "So, when my father, Bardock is his name, came here, he was obedient to Vegeta. They talked about our planet, and I just listened. My father hadn't shared any of this information with me, so I guessed that Cell had instructed my father to tell only Vegeta, and not to pass the message along like a telephone line."

"Cell?" Bulma asked, catching onto the name of the one of the three rulers that Goku and Vegeta had told her about when she first learned of the Saiyans, and that both Goku and Vegeta were a different species from the man. "What do you mean he sent a message to Vegeta? I thought you didn't like Cell and the other two rulers. I don't know, but I just got the impression that you didn't approve of them when you first mentioned them to me."

"We don't approve of them, that's true, but they're still our leaders. We can't argue with that. And Vegeta is the… prince of our race. Whether he's been away for a day or five years, he still needs to be informed of certain issues if they come about… such as this one…"

"What was the message, Goku?" Bulma pressed, trying to be gentle with her words.

"Well, my father said that there was a power struggle between King Vegeta, that's Vegeta's father, and Frieza, the third most powerful ruler out of our three rulers. Something happened and they got into a fight… King Vegeta was murdered and Frieza took the throne."

"What?!" Bulma yelled, "Vegeta's father was _killed_?! But he's the _king_! You can't just murder a _king_!"

"Shh!" Goku said, quickly covering her mouth with his hand, "He can still hear you. Don't shout—"

But it was too late for that. Loud footsteps echoed from downstairs until they pounded up the steps. Bulma listened as they got steadily louder, and Chichi's shouts followed after him, as well as her quieter footfalls on the stairs as Vegeta came into the bedroom.

"I know you like to be the gossip queen around here, _Kakarot_ , but maybe if you thought for a moment about _why_ I've been talking with your annoying girlfriend for the past four and half hours—"

"Please don't yell at him, Vegeta," Bulma intercepted, standing and walking over to stand directly in front of him. "If you were going to tell me yourself, then why does it matter? I know now, so what's the difference?"

Bulma instantly cursed herself in her mind when his face twisted in what looked like anger. She sensed that it was a cover-up for something else though. At first, she assumed it was sadness for the death of his father, but then she got the feeling that that was only part of it. There was something else there that she knew that Goku wouldn't be able to clue her in on.

She also mentally reprimanded herself because she had just promised herself to try and care about him as much as he seemed to care about her. And the first time she saw him after making that promise, and she had already broken it. She decided to take action immediately to try and remake that promise.

She took a step forward so that barely an inch was between them and wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling him closer. She buried the left side of her face into his thick-muscled upper body and took a short breath. She felt him tense and wondered if he was shy around Goku and Chichi, or he just hadn't expected it.

"I'm so sorry," she quickly said, figuring that the apology could count for both the sympathy she felt for his loss and the apology for acting so harsh to him a few moments ago.

And then a gentle hand on her back made her jump. Bulma thought for a moment that it meant something else, but then it was gone. After a few seconds, Chichi, who finally emerged in the doorway, stared, completely clueless, at the scene laid out before her eyes.

"Now, how exactly does this help you?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and directing her question at Vegeta. "Explain to me how something like that is going to help anyone here, especially _Bulma_? Why don't you _think_ before you act, Vegeta?!"

Bulma froze and lifted her head to look questioningly at Chichi. Had their argument been something involving her? And if so, what? And why?

Chichi, seeing the questioning look she was receiving, spoke. Bulma noticed how Vegeta tensed again when she opened her mouth.

"I heard what Goku told you, but I know he didn't tell you that Vegeta is now the _king_ of Planet Vegeta, and Bardock told him that he has to go home to claim his title and dethrone Freiza, which initially means _killing_ him to take his place. And, listen to _this_ , Bulma! He's actually considering going, and he doesn't even want to _answer_ me when I ask him if he's coming _back_! You have to talk to him, because he certainly isn't listening to _me_!"

"Maybe if you shut your mouth for one second, _raven_ —"

"Don't talk bullshit with me, Vegeta!" Chichi screeched. "I won't let you go if you're thinking about leaving Bulma here and never coming back!"

Bulma froze and tensed under Vegeta's affectionate touch. Her eyes widened and her mind finally registered his touch as a way of saying goodbye… But he wouldn't do that to her. They'd been through this a thousand times. But _Chichi_ had always been the one to tell her not to worry. Now, she was clearly worried.

She backed up and Vegeta's hand fell to his side. She looked up at him without saying a single word. His eyes met hers and they looked at each other for only a moment before he gently closed his eyes and smirked. "You know I wouldn't leave her…" he said to both Bulma and Chichi.

"Whaaat?!" she yelled, "Then what was that whole argument for the past five hours all about?! I know you hate to talk more than a rock does, especially when it's to _me_. There's no way in hell you held a five hour argument with me like that when your mind was already made up! You'd better not be lying to Bulma's face, Vegeta. I don't care if you _are_ a Saiyan warrior, or whatever you call yourself. _I_ _will_ _kick_. _Your_. _Ass_!"

Vegeta huffed silently and walked over to lie down on the bed with a sarcastic grin. "I can't even take a vacation," he said simply.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Chichi asked, clearly exasperated with him and his antics.

"It means that I can always kill Frieza for murdering my father and stealing my throne, but that means that I have to stay there. But that way, if I truly become King, I can call off this purging mission and make it a law that this planet is to be left alone. Kakarot could even remain here. I doubt I'd need his assistance to take down Frieza. Not while I'm a Super Saiyan. The only problem is that I would have to stay there. I wouldn't be able to come back to this mud-ball of a planet if I was to rule Planet Vegeta and claim my father's throne…"

"Keep an eye on him, Bulma," Chichi whispered, "Bardock left for home after the message was delivered, but he left a space pod here so that Vegeta and Goku could return when they were prepared."

Bulma remembered her promise and thought on it. Was it best to let him go? Did that show that she cared for him as much as he cared for her? But would it hurt him? Did she have to hurt him? And was it worth it? She didn't know what to do, but she knew she couldn't have a serious conversation with him if Chichi was around while they spoke.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, motioning for Vegeta to follow her as she turned and walked down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she headed for the door. She didn't want Goku to be persuaded to listen in on them for Chichi.

She opened the door. The sun was already starting to come up, but it was still damp and gray. She turned after hearing Vegeta close the door behind them.

"Do you want to go?" she asked immediately. She couldn't afford to beat around the bush with him. "And please answer honestly, Vegeta. I don't want this to be a game."

"First the raven, and now you?" he asked, but when Bulma just pursed her lips, he sighed. "Yes, there is definitely a part of me that would enjoy ruling an entire planet of warriors as well as being treated as royalty again after my pitiful, lowly time on this planet."

"Do you want it more than you want to stay here?" she asked, trying to hold back the water behind her eyes. She didn't even know why her body was threatening to cry on her, because he hadn't even said anything yet. Did she _expect_ him to leave?

"I'm not going anywhere, woman," he said, and she knew from his expression that he sensed her impeding and threatening tears. "Didn't I make that clear enough for you?" He sounded mockingly-offended. Bulma guessed it was probably to try and lighten the mood, but she needed to get a real answer out of him instead of this play-talk that he was apparently so fond of.

"Vegeta…" she said. She had to do what she thought was best for him. She had to, if she cared about him… If she loved him. "I think you should go home." She noticed that his expression didn't change or falter. "If you were there, and you became the king, then you could protect me by calling off your mission. If you don't… well, didn't you ever think about what would _happen_ if someone found out about the fact that you don't plan on completing your assignment because of _me_? And if Frieza is allowed to stay in control… You don't know what could happen to… _your_ people. He could send an army to defeat you and Goku and complete the mission. He probably sees you as a threat to his power, so it's only natural that he would want to get rid of you… Don't you think that it could be dangerous if you stayed here? If there are three men, even if they are all weaker than you, if two of them got your attention… well, I… I wouldn't put up much of a fight because I'm only an Earthling—"

"I'm not going anywhere, woman," he repeated, more forcefully this time, but the meaning for him was clear: if he was here, at least he would have a chance to protect her. If he was gone, and there was only a single man, even an Earthling man, she still wouldn't put up much of a fight.

"Then why were you arguing with Chichi about this for the past four or five hours? She clearly doesn't think you should leave, and if you were arguing with her, then doesn't that mean you supported the _opposite_ of her, meaning you wanted to convince her to _let_ you leave? I don't understand, Vegeta. Please… I just… don't understand…"

"I'm not going any—"

"Will you be serious for once?!"

"I am."

"No, you're _not_. All you're thinking about is what _you_ want!" She saw his face flicker, but ignored it. "Didn't you ever think that maybe what I want is to be _safe_?" She was tearing her heart apart, and she didn't know why. She couldn't even stop herself or the words that fell like a waterfall coming out of her mouth.

"If you're here, I _can't_ be safe. You're threatening my life by just staying here with me. Can't you _see_ that? If you defeated Frieza, you could protect me from your rightful place on _your_ planet, _not mine_. You don't belong here, Vegeta. You say it all the time. You complain about this planet and how much you hate it here. Well, now's your chance to leave. You can go to that pod that Bardock left and go _home_. You can rule your planet in whatever way you want. You won't have to listen or work for anyone anymore. You won't have to sleep on my couch, because you'll have your own giant, probably king-sized bed in a warm room without the possibility of being kicked out by a pair of Earthlings who are older and weaker than you!"

It was even harder to manage her tears now, but she made due. "I _want_ you to leave, Vegeta," she said, finishing her rant. "I want you to go home so that I can be safe. I want you to go home because you're tearing my family apart. My parents probably hate me by now, and I'm sorry, but it's _your_ _fault_. They haven't even come looking for me, and I always thought that they cared more about me than anything in the entire world. And I think they did, before _you_ came along. You know, maybe they were right. Maybe you _are_ bad for me. Maybe it would be better if you left and I got over you and met someone new. Maybe someone who is at least my own _species_ …"

There was a silence, and Bulma felt all the butterflies in her heart flutter their wings one last time before dying and falling into the pit of her stomach. She felt nearly dead inside, but she knew that it wasn't just her that wouldn't be safe if Vegeta stayed here for the rest of their lives. Neither of them would live very long that way. Frieza probably knew that, if Vegeta found out about the murder of his father, he would try and take his revenge. And it sounded as if Vegeta could pose a serious threat to Frieza. It was only expected that he would try to make a plan to get rid of this threat. The other thing was that she was a liability. She had read too many books to not know that a weak female could lead to the demise of an arrogant male who felt protective of the female, and the two of them were a prime example. And she was right about one thing. If there were three of four men, all they would need is a single-second distraction to snap her neck with Vegeta preoccupied. She could easily be killed by a Saiyan. She knew what power they had by when Vegeta had to hold himself back during their nightly sessions.

The thought of those nights made her insides twist into a tight knot and stay that way. Her light breathing hurt her lungs, but she tried to look as calm and determined as possible.

"I've been on this planet for five years," Vegeta said, and Bulma narrowed her eyebrows when she thought she heard a bit of amusement in his tone. "I've been forced to do many things by that annoying raven of Kakarot's, and one of those things was watching her filthy, putrid, girly movies. And when they were over, I felt like throwing up all over her carpet just to make her angry. I always wondered how Kakarot could stand such horrible entertainment. I always thought it was stupid and pointless, but I think I finally found some sort of use for them."

Bulma didn't know what to say. She didn't know where he was going with his talk about chick flicks, and it seemed like it was as stupid and pointless as the movies, in his point of view.

"You see, a main plot point that female Earthlings seem to enjoy in their stupid movies is the sacrifice of their wants and desires for the betterment of their male counterparts." Bulma froze, her mind running like a high wire. "And based off of the general female Earthling's attachment to this concept, the way your heart is beating, and the simple fact that you're blood pressure rose to hold back those drops of water behind your eyes…" Bulma just stood there. She felt like a complete idiot. "I'd say that you wanted to come with me."

Bulma's mouth opened just a bit. That wasn't what she had been expecting, but it was better than what she thought was going to be his insulting her for the next half an hour on how bad her performance was. And she thought it had been pretty good, actually.

"I…" she didn't know how to respond to him at that point. He had her beat. "Well," she said, clearing her throat as if she had just made a complete fool out of herself in front of thousands of people. "That, uhm, didn't go as I thought it would…"

Vegeta just shrugged. "I guess you can come, if you really want," he said, heading for the door. He paused and looked back at her, over his right shoulder, "But that damned _raven_ isn't coming with us if I have anything to say about it." And then he opened the door, leaving Bulma speechless as she listened to him climb the stairs.


	39. Planet Vegeta

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Planet Vegeta**

Bulma sat upright in the kitchen chair across from Chichi as Goku and Vegeta spoke in the other room, softly so neither of the Earthling girls could hear them. It was almost eight o'clock in the morning. School had started already, but Vegeta's idea of leaving right away had caused the four of them to remain in Chichi's house until they were ready to go. The space pod was about three miles away, but Goku said that he could just use his Instant Transmission technique to get all of them there in one second flat.

Bulma didn't have anything to pack and made a hasty and regretful decision to not go back to her parents to get anything she might have needed. All she had was her purse, and Vegeta assured her that she wouldn't need all that much. The Saiyan space pods could travel faster than the speed of light, and they would be at his home planet in less than two hours after they departed. He also said that he would provide her with everything she might need, including anything she might have wanted to pack from her home, such as clothes and make-up, or any other useless female necessities, as he liked to put it.

The idea of going to where Vegeta and Goku were born and raised had Bulma more nervous and scared than excited or interested. She knew Vegeta could feel her fear, but he hadn't said anything to her about it. The main reason she was frightened was that her and Chichi's Saiyan boyfriends weren't going to be a thousand times stronger than the other males that were around them every day. It wasn't like she expected to be attacked or anything, but she knew the reason why they were going, and she feared what could happen. She planned for the worst and hoped for the best.

Goku entered the kitchen first with a small smile on his face. Vegeta followed after, scowling.

"Come on, Chichi!" Goku said, elated. "You are going to be able to see my planet! How cool is that? I've always thought about bringing you to my home, but I never thought I'd actually get to do it someday."

"Woman, come here," Vegeta said, motioning for her to follow him upstairs as he turned and stepped out of her view.

"Please don't take too long, Vegeta!" Chichi called, "If your male-drives are _needy_ , then you'll just have to wait until we get there! We're leaving in five minutes, _with_ or with _out_ you!"

Bulma blushed and raced up the stairs.

Instantly, when she entered Chichi's bedroom, Vegeta's lips locked with hers. She hadn't even seen him, and faster than the wind, he was standing right in front of her. He gripped her hips on both sides and pulled her hard into his unhidden, erect desire for her as he pushed his tongue past her rosy lips and sucked on her.

Bulma, attempting to be gentle and ignore her own instincts, gently kissed him in response to his ministrations. She then lightly pushed on his chest to show that she was trying to push him away. He obeyed with a grunt and released her hips, cupping her face with his now-free hands. He looked into her eyes and Bulma lifted an eyebrow at him and what his actions could have possibly meant.

"Do not leave my sight, Bulma," he commanded forcefully, unusually using her name as he spoke to her. "While we are on Planet Vegeta, do not go where I can't see you. Do you understand?"

Bulma slowly nodded, not used to Vegeta's open shows of concern for her. Or the use of her name from the gorgeous man.

"No, you don't," he said, pulling her inside the bedroom and grabbing her by the waist. He lifted her off the ground and tossed her onto the bed. He insistently pounced on top of her and straddled her hips with his legs, bent at the knee. He spoke with immensity as he looked down at her. "You will not leave my _side_. You will not go anywhere that I am _not_. You will sleep in my arms. You will eat in _front_ of me. You will shower where I can guard you. You will obey every command that I give you _without_ _question_. Am I _understood_ , Bulma?"

When she nodded again, he lowered his head, gently brushing his mouth over hers as he breathed what sounded like a relieved sigh. He slipped his tongue out of his mouth to quickly caress her bottom lip before jumping off of her and hauling her to her feet.

"The gravity on my planet is greater than that of this planet's gravity. You may not be able to stand, but there are devices that I can obtain for both you and the raven that will lessen the effects of it so that you will barely feel the difference. I don't know how long it will take to get two of them, though. Kakarot and I have decided that it would be best if we kept our arrival a secret until I decide to take back my father's throne. Unfortunately, that means that I will not be treated as royalty and we may have a more difficult time getting the things we need and getting certain Saiyans to do what I want them to do. It has been five years, but I doubt they have forgotten my appearance. Our only hope is that Saiyans who are about Kakarot and my age may not recognize my features as that of my father's and the kings who have come before. We will be treated as lowly soldiers, Kakarot and I, and you and the raven will be treated as our… concubines."

"Does that require an explanation?" Bulma asked, seeing the way he scrunched his nose at the word when he said it aloud. She knew what a concubine was, but she didn't understand the significance of it on Vegeta's planet. And by his expression, she guessed that an enlightenment of sorts was in order.

"Concubines are simply mistresses on Earth, women who sleep with men without the bondages of marriage. But on my planet, it is a woman who resides with a male without being claimed by him. A mate is like a spouse, in terms that you would find easy to relate with. This is a female who cohabits with a male, but the male does not consider her his mate; simply someone to satiate his desires."

"So…?" Bulma asked, unable to see how that could be a risk to her safety.

"If a female is not claimed by a male, but mates with him, she is still… up-for-grabs, so to say. To a Saiyan male, the only females who are off-limits to them are those who have been taken as a mate by another Saiyan male. The reason for this is simple. Males are protective of their mate, because there is only one, at a time, at least. A male Saiyan can have a mate and as many concubines as he likes. The concubines are for boredom, whereas a mate is for… procreation."

"So, what? If you aren't known as the prince, then I can't be known as your mate to other Saiyan males?"

"A lowly soldier is one whose ancestors have committed a crime and sent the rest of their bloodline into a state of descent and betrayal. Any offspring of such a male is treated with the same respect as the father who committed the crime. Any offspring are purely coincidental in such a case because the males usually choose not to take a mate to spare their children the shame of their family bloodline and the dishonor it brings to anyone whose blood flows the same as a man who has betrayed their race. But that does not mean that those males choose not to satisfy their primal desires. In fact, it's quite the opposite. If a male does not want offspring, he is more likely to find many concubines to please and bed him than a male who willingly chooses a female to be his mate."

"It sounds like the women on your planet don't really have a choice," she said, although it came out as more of a question than a statement. And just as Vegeta was about to open his mouth to respond, Chichi's screech echoed up the stairs.

"Get down here, guys!" she shouted. "Vegeta, your five minutes is _way_ up! Stop bugging Bulma and come down here so we can leave! The last thing we need is for the school to call Bulma's parents and tell them that she's not in school while we're still on this planet. It would be kind of hard to leave the atmosphere in a Saiyan space pod while we have police searching for Bulma because they think she's gone missing."

Bulma rolled her eyes and turned toward the stairs, but a hand on her forearm swung her around and pulled her close to her dream boy. He didn't kiss her, but she could feel his familiar cool breath on the side of her face when he looked her over.

" _Don't_ … leave my side," he said, repeating himself from before. Bulma, to reassure him that she would be fine, nodded and wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands dangle behind his back to roughly pull his hips into her lower abdomen. She pushed her face into his collarbone and felt his cool breath on the top of her head, the calming breeze flowing under her hair and making her shiver.

"Let's go," she said, "Before Chichi disowns you or something."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he commented modestly, "The day she ignores me is the day the universe is plunged into a hellfire."

"Come on," she said, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers before pulling him after her down the stairs.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

The space pod was huge. Well, bigger than Bulma thought it was going to be. It was a dome-shaped pod, with blue markings on a white surface. It didn't look like it had been painted; but instead, the material it was made out of was a naturally pure white color.

They were in a grassy field, across the road from a large cornfield. It didn't look very hidden, but then the rod didn't look like it was used much either.

Vegeta pulled down a red lever on the right side of what looked to be the outline of a doorway and the big door opened from the top, like a drawbridge. It was slow, but after a few moments of waiting, it creaked and then hit the ground. No sounds followed. But as Bulma took the first curious step inside, Vegeta grabbed her arm.

"Someone is inside," he said, and Bulma froze.

"Another Saiyan?" she asked, "Is it Bardock?" But Vegeta was already shaking his head.

"No, it's an Earthling. And a female, too…"

A loud rumble and a scream came from inside the pod. Goku was the first to take action to go and investigate. Chichi and Vegeta followed. Bulma came last. Behind them, without warning, the door closed and a noise resembling that of something locking followed. Bulma whipped around and stared at what used to be the exit to the pod. Her mouth hung open.

"What happened?" she asked, turning back to face Vegeta. Chichi had her hand up, pointing to something.

" _You_ ," she said.

"How did you…" Goku said, nearly speechless.

"Fuck," Vegeta's arrogant tone said as he crossed his arms. "Out of _all_ the people…"

"I knew you weren't human!" a stranger's voice called, and Bulma walked forward to see what she thought she must have been dreaming up with her imagination. But it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't her imagination either. It was Maron.

"Actually, _human_ isn't the proper term to use," Vegeta said, "Since everyone in this room is a human. The difference is that we come from different planets. You, from Earth, and me, from Vegeta. But on some occasions, I think that some of the humans from Earth couldn't possibly be, in _any_ way, meaning human, related to me. _You_ , for example, who apparently thought that it would be conventional to enter this space pod without anyone's permission but your own. Your stupidity is _appalling_ , really."

"I can't believe you come from a different planet…" she said, as if she had been deaf to Vegeta's small speech.

"And what's worse," Goku added, "You've hit the launch button. I mean, I'm glad we're all inside, but it's on autopilot, set for Planet Vegeta. We can't turn it around, or open the doors to let you back out. You'll have to come with us."

"Whaaat?!" Chichi yelled. " _Her_?"

"I always knew that you were special, Veggie, but you come from a planet that's named after you? That's amazing." Maron clasped her hands together and smiled. Bulma wanted to barf. And what was that all about with the nickname she gave him?

"I guess me hitting you wasn't enough to get the message across, huh?" Vegeta mumbled inaudibly. "Well, now that you've ruined our trip by just being here, I guess you can stay here and shut up."

"Well, Vegeta…" Goku said, creasing his eyebrows, "She didn't mean to…"

"Shut up, Kakarot, before I throw you out the air lock…" He paused and then looked over at Maron again. "There's an _air lock_ …"

"Vegeta!" Goku shouted. "I know you don't like her very much, but don't you think that's a little too much?"

"Not liking her very much would be an enormous understatement, Kakarot."

Bulma took a deep breath and puffed her chest out. She then walked over to Maron and stood directly in front of her. She leaned forward to whisper to her, "If you don't get it yet, you're not welcome here. _I_ hate you. _Vegeta_ hates you. _Chichi_ hates you. And although Goku is too nice to hate anyone, he's the only reason you're still alive. This isn't your fan club, Maron," she threatened. "I want you to shut your fucking mouth and stay away from Vegeta. He's mine and I will beat you to within an inch of your _life_ you if you lay a single finger on him. We're about to leave _Earth_ , and there's no one to protect you but yourself out here. Piss us off and you will _end_. _Got_ it?"

Bulma pulled away and didn't turn to see whether or not Maron had been frightened or even understood the true meaning of what she had just told her. She just walked away, past Vegeta, and towards a ladder that lead to a lower floor of the space pod.

This trip was already getting on her nerves.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma sat below the main floor as Goku and Maron spoke with one another, seeing as Goku was probably the only person who would willingly speak with the bitch. But there was nothing to do for the remainder of the ride. They had been on autopilot for over an hour, now, and all Bulma wanted was for it to end so she could get away from Maron and her stupid idiosyncrasies.

But for the rest of the time, she decided to listen to Maron complain to Goku, as annoying as it was.

"… and then I saw this big white thing that I just _knew_ was a space ship. I always knew that there were aliens, but I had no idea that they were you and Vegeta. How exciting. Do you _like_ being an alien? Is it any different from being a regular human, like me?"

"Well, I—"

"After the party, I think it was a year ago now, and remembering how Vegeta had that amazingly sexy super-human strength and how he adored me when he did his little pushups, I just knew something had to be up, but it didn't click until just now. And I saw him flying on the news about a week ago. Can you fly, _too_?"

"All Saiyans can fl—"

"I think it would be great to fly. Can you do other things, too? Like become _invisible_. Do you live forever? Immortals are so cool. I heard about them from books that I looked up on Sparknotes because I didn't feel like reading them for class. In all honesty, I just thought it was a waste of my time. I had so much better things to do than read some stupid book. Only the nerds with no lives actually read the books that we get. I mean, I got a sixty on my essay, and I didn't even read the freaking book. What's the point of reading the book if you can get a grade like that without doing anything? And it's not like I need good grades anyway. It's not like I'm going to go to college, or anything serious like that. I figure that I'll just marry some rich guy and never work another day in my perfectly perfect life. Doesn't that sound perfect?"

"Well, I think college is kind of important. I know that some people don't—"

"But the _nerve_ of that girl. _Bulma_. Ooh, she burns me up. It's not like I'm not sexy, because I don't eat a lot of sugar. I'm nearly anorexic and my body is shaped perfectly. I just know that Vegeta wants me, but he knows he can't show me in front of his little inexperienced girlfriend, so I'm waiting for the right moment to get him alone and let him show me how he really feels about me. Even _you_. You're a man, and _every_ man, alien or not, is attracted to a sexy body like mine. But don't worry, I won't tell your black-haired girlfriend. Sorry, I don't remember her name. It's hard to remember everyone's name when you really don't _care_ , don't you think?" There was a pause. "Hey, where are you going? Geez, nobody likes to talk around here. You're all a bunch of antisocial freaks, aren't you?"

"Will you shut up already?" Bulma heard Chichi ask. She sounded exasperated and annoyed to the point of no return.

"We're here," came Vegeta's voice. Then came a lacuna of silence, followed by the sound of the engine being cut. A few seconds later, her dream boy's hand reached down the ladder. Bulma took it and allowed herself to be lifted up to the main floor. When he hugged her so tightly that she could barely breath, she opened her mouth to protest, but she noticed Goku hold Chichi in the same way, so she kept her mouth shut. Maron looked at them as if she slyly expected them to start having sex right there in front of her.

But as the large space pod's door opened just a crack, and Bulma watched Maron hit the floor with a screech, she couldn't help but laugh out loud. She anxiously noticed how her body hurt from laughing because of the increased effects of the gravity. She knew that Vegeta was the only reason she hadn't hit the floor, just like Maron.

"I can't get up, guys," Maron whimpered. "Can you help me up, Vegeta?" she asked, trying her best to be seductive with her face pressed against the cold tiled floor of the space vehicle. It was needless to say that it didn't work very well.

"I'd rather not," he replied, lifting Bulma into his arms and stepping out of the pod. Goku followed in a hurry, no longer caring so much about Maron. Bulma guessed it was from the way she had spoken about Chichi a few moments before that had changed his opinion of her.

"You can't just leave me here!" she shouted, but it was drowned out by the unusual sound of Vegeta's worried tone.

"Someone's coming," he said quickly. "I think it's one of Ginyu's. Kakarot, if we don't want to be found, we have to get out of here. _Now_!"

Goku trotted over to them and Bulma felt a strange wave of nausea hit her as he used the Instant Transmission technique to quickly get them away from their current location. Bulma found herself secretly hoping that whoever Vegeta had said was nearing them would find Maron and put her out of _their_ misery. It was the least she could do for them after all she'd put her and Vegeta through, even before she knew him.

But just when they thought they were safe, another voice sounded from behind them in their new location.

"Who are you?" the voice asked, and Goku and Vegeta turned around, their bodies clearly tensed for an expected fight, but then they stopped, as if their minds were thinking on the same frequency. All Bulma could do was glance over at Chichi, who shrugged at her in reply to her obvious confusion.

"Uh… I'm Kak— I mean, Goku. I'm Goku. And this is my friend, Ve— uhm, Velochia."

The stranger lifted one eyebrow in suspicion, but left their names alone. "Nice to meet you… Goku and Velochia… My name's Broly. You look like you are in need of some assistance. May I help you?"

"Yes," Vegeta said quickly, stepping forward. Not one of them failed to notice how Broly's eyes flickered towards Bulma, lying helplessly in his arms like a vulnerable kitten. "We need a place to stay," he continued loudly, gathering Broly's attention with his voice. "Do you live nearby? We'll only stay for a night or two, but we really need a place to stay where we won't be found. You can understand that… can't you?"

His voice sounded threatening, although Bulma couldn't imagine why. Maybe this was one of those people he had told her about, who were the children of a parent who was labeled as a traitor, or something like that. She couldn't quite remember. The gravity was giving her a horrible headache and she really wanted to close her eyes and fall asleep. She knew she probably could, because Vegeta was right there, as well as Goku, but she was too curious and interested in her surroundings. The planet was the same as Earth. The same green grass. The same brown trees. The same blue, cloudy sky. It looked like she was back on Earth, but she guessed that Broly had to be a Saiyan.

"Yeah," Broly replied, shrugging. "I live out here, not too far into the woods, though," he said, but he was sarcastic at the same time, knowing that the reason for him being isolated probably was nothing to be proud of. "And I wouldn't mind some visitors for a night or two. Bulma hoped that Vegeta noticed how the man's eyes grazed over her form as he spoke of visitors… and nights.

All of a sudden, a wave of hopelessness and dread hit Bulma. Why was she here? Would she ever be able to go back home? She could feel the danger all around her that she recalled Vegeta subtly warning her about, but she hadn't understood. Now, she understood flawlessly. She was in another world here. A world where she was helpless. A world where she didn't stand a chance at defending herself against anyone. A world where she would need some sort of device just to be able to stand on her own.

Vegeta didn't have to worry about a thing. She wasn't going to leave his side because she didn't want to. And she feared what would happen to her if she did…

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Dear Fans,

Hi guys! xD I know I haven't been leaving a lot of ANs recently, but I just wanted to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your support! I love you guys so much! I get a lot of writer's block and sometimes I just can't come up with what to write, and I hate not being able to post new chapters for a while—for any of my stories. T^T So, yea… Haha. I really just wanted to say thank you for reading this fanfiction, because if there was no one to read my work, I would probably never write. ^^; You guys are awesome, and your appreciation of my work is what drives my passion. ^^ So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking time out of your day to read my story. 3

Yours Truly,

-LightPhyre


	40. Threefold Destruction

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Threefold Destruction**

Bulma groaned when she was placed down on an uncomfortably bumpy bed. It felt like there were stiff balls of mud beneath the bed sheets and inside the mattress, and Bulma didn't like it one bit. The fact that she could barely move didn't help her situation in the slightest way either.

Vegeta hadn't spoken a word to her since the door to the space pod opened and she felt the full weight of the planet's gravity shove her down with no remorse. She didn't mind his silence. In fact, it was expected, to her. He was always quiet when he had something on his mind. She could only guess that he had a certain defensiveness about him that made him wary of willingly sharing any information with anyone unless asked. And she was no exception, no matter how much she wished otherwise.

"I don't know if I like this place better than Earth," she said, attempting at getting him to talk. "It could just be the gravity, but I guess it looks pretty much the same, though. I wasn't expecting that. Then again, I hadn't really thought about what your planet would look like."

Her attempt had failed, she realized, when Vegeta sat down on the bed, but remained quiet. So, after a few moments of listening to the faint whispers of Chichi and Goku from the other room, she decided to try her luck once again.

"Does it look the same as when you last saw it? Or is it a little different now that you're older?"

It was probably the wrong thing to bring up, Bulma thought when he looked at her crossly.

"It looks exactly the same, woman. Not a thing has changed." His tone sounded upset and aggravated, but it wasn't directed at her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her question making her move to tilt her head, but she soon remembered that such a thing would take more work than she was willing to give. "Are you regretting coming back?"

"No," he simply replied.

"And what about this Frieza-guy? I'm sure that you'll get your throne back, especially with Goku here as well. But what do you think about him? I mean, won't you have to kill him to take back the throne? I couldn't imagine ever killing someone over power, but maybe that's just because of where I was born and raised. We have a lot of rules and restrictions against fighting on my planet, don't we? You probably didn't like that very much when you arrived," she giggled, but it hurt to laugh at all. Talking was about the most she could manage without feeling overly uncomfortable. Vegeta looked over at her when she made a whining noise, but she didn't recognize any concern in his expression. Either he knew she was fine, or he was in a really foul mood. She didn't like the latter explanation.

"I'm going to go find you and the raven a device that will lessen the effects of the gravity on you. I'll be back before the end of the day." And then he stood and began walking out the door.

"Wait," Bulma said, and he stopped to turn to look at her.

"What is it?"

"Didn't you say not to leave your side? What about you not leaving _my_ side, because I can't move at all."

"Other than your mouth," he murmured offhandedly as he thought, "Kakarot is in the room through this wall," he said, lightly rapping his knuckles against the wall to her left, "and I doubt he'll allow our hospitable friend to do anything that I wouldn't allow if I were here. Other than that, there's no direct need for you to be heavily protected, seeing as you can't get yourself into trouble if you can't go anywhere. I'll have a word with Kakarot and Broly before I leave. Neither of them will be bothering you until I return. I guarantee it, woman. And if Broly doesn't obey my wishes…" He paused under the doorway, his back to her. "I'll give him a death so extensive and agonizing, he'll wish that his father would have taken more caution into having him as an accidental child with whatever whore he decided to fuck up some lonely night."

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Maron opened her eyes to four bright lights above her head. She was lying horizontally on a soft bed, or that's what it felt like, and the lights looked closer than they should be. She sat up and felt something pull her back down, but it wasn't a person. There was no one else in the window-less room with its sleek, shiny metal walls and its bright lights and soft bed. Other than those, the only other thing in the room was her.

She lifted her hand to her throat, where she had felt the pull, to find that there was a piece of metal around her neck. She trailed her fingers around to the back of the collar-like piece of cold metal to find a thin chain. She turned her head around to look at the source of the pull. It was attaching her neck to the backboard of the bedframe. She was locked to a bed like a misbehaving child! How absurd!

"Hey!" she shouted, "Get me out of here! Can somebody hear me? Can anybody help me? Come on! Answer me! I know someone's there because I couldn't have been attached to this bed by myself! Come on! Get me out of this room! Somebody!—Huh?"

The door clicked and in walked a pink and white man, not taller than Maron's shoulder-height. She almost laughed, but held her tongue in case this was a man that could get her out of this stupid collar.

"Excuse me? I was just wondering if you could—" she began, but was rudely cut-off and ignored.

"You have information that I need, little girl. I want to know who was on that ship that you came in, and I want to know immediately. You were in a Saiyan pod, and its crew is unaccounted for in our records and logbooks. That means that someone is here that really shouldn't be, and you know who he, she, or they are. And you're going to tell me like a good little girl."

"That's just stupid," Maron said, tossing her head back. "Did you lock me in here and put this horrible thing around my neck and strangle me? Did you tie me to this bed, too? How mean! And you think I'm going to tell you anything! Ha! Who do you think you are, Mister?"

"Me? Well, I am the ruler of this planet and all of its people. If you think for even a moment that I'm giving you a choice to tell me or not, then you are sadly mistaken."

"You mean you're _royalty_?" Maron asked, sparkles in her eyes, not understanding the man's threats to her if she didn't cooperate. "I'll tell you what, Mister Royalty. I may have never seen someone with your skin tone before, but I know how to behave around royalty. In fact, I'm sort of like a regal myself back on my planet."

"And what planet would that be?" the man asked with a forced smile.

"Uh, uh, uh," Maron laughed, waggling a finger in front of the man's face. "First, us regal people need to work things like this out with formality. My name is Maron, and I am willing to propose a compromise, because there is something that I now want from you."

"And what would that be, little Maron from an undisclosed planet?"

"I want to be part of this planet. My home is too boring, and I like it here, especially because of this wonderful situation I've found myself in. You are what, the prince, the deity, a god of this planet?"

" _King_ , actually," the man replied, concealing his rolled eyes from Maron.

"Well, my King, I wish to be royalty here, like I was on my planet, which I will gladly tell you once you've agreed. As will I tell you anything and everything else that you wish to know. I will even tell you what you don't ask of me. I will willingly give you all the information that I have on the subject of the mysterious passengers that made me come here against my will.

"Oh, you were treated poorly?" the man asked, trying to sound as if he cared.

"Oh, yes! They were the meanest bunch I have ever met!"

"And how many were there, _exactly_?"

"There were only— Hey, I know what you're trying to do. And it won't work on me. Deal first, my King. Then I will share what I know."

"Very well… So, you wish to be royalty like me on this planet? I can arrange something. I will make you a noble immediately. Now, about those _passengers_ …"

"No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to be a silly little _noble_. I want to be the highest there is!"

"You wish to be… _Queen_?"

"Queen! Yes! I wish to be the Queen of this amazing planet! That is what I want! Only then will I share what I know with you!"

"You do know that that requires you to marry… the _King_ , don't you?"

"I don't care what it requires of me. And I'm sure you won't mind. Many men would wish to be you back on my home planet."

"Which is _what_? What _planet_ are you from… My _Queen_?"

Maron giggled.

"This will be marvelous! We'll get married tonight and I will tell you everything before the day is over! So… What is the name of my future husband?"

"…Frieza."

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Vegeta sat under a dark green, leafy bush. It was shady, but it wasn't the sun or the light that bothered him. Instead, it was the fact that there were slaves, guards, maids, butlers, whores, gigolos, henchmen and scouts above, below, and to the left and right of him. It was common sense that he would have to do some silent killing to get inside the large building without setting off some kind of alarm or alerting everyone of where he was and who he was. And the problem wasn't not being able to handle the wimps that were scattered all around him.

The problem was that Vegeta, the rightful heir to the Saiyan throne on Planet Vegeta, was supposed to be on Planet Earth right now. Yes, he could kill everyone in the building without breaking a sweat, but if even one person managed to get away or hide from him, to escape with the knowledge of his being here was as deadly as walking right in front of Frieza and allowing him to prepare his armies to attack him as he stood there without defense. Simply put, trying to kill everyone in and around this building was suicide, and he didn't stand a chance if he tried it anyway.

Besides, all he wanted were two of those gravity-changing devices that he knew were held here. He'd never had a guest that couldn't handle this planet's gravity before, so he had never required a need for the devices. He just assumed that they were for the weak and so he wanted nothing to do with them. Well, he shrugged, Bulma and the raven were weak, compared to the rest of his planet's population, but that was beside the point. He had to have something to do with them now.

It felt strange, knowing that he didn't have to worry about her safety, especially on his home planet. It was thanks to Kakarot being there, of course, but he had the funny feeling that nothing could go wrong. Broly's power level wasn't that high, and that he knew of, he and Kakarot were the only Saiyans alive that could become Super Saiyans. There were no others, so Kakarot wouldn't have a single problem taking Broly down if the situation arose. Plus, even though his life-long partner was a bit gullible at times, he knew that he could trust him with his life, and Bulma's, while he was gone. It felt odd to think it, even though he never said it aloud before. He just hadn't really given it much thought until now, when he felt relaxed, knowing that Kakarot was in charge of his mate's safety and well-being. He knew he'd never feel that way with another person for the rest of his life.

Pushing his thoughts aside and focusing on the task at hand, Vegeta maneuvered himself into a crouch and prepared to run across the flat landscape. He had been watching and memorizing the movements of the guards for quite some time now, and the scouts weren't looking in his direction. If he was going to go forward, he would have to do it pretty quickly or not at all.

Dedication, pride, and arrogance on his side, he raced forward, and as planned, the seven guards around him had their backs to him all at the same time. He made a mental note to reprimand and replace those idiots when he became the king, as he should have been rightfully named already.

He pressed his back up against the flat door and ceased all movement and noise until he was sure it was safe to open the door. He didn't doubt that it would squeak or at least make a gritting noise against the rusty hinges.

So, ignoring the slight sounds from opening the door, he slid inside without any extra noise, closing the door behind him. There were a few people inside, but many fewer guards, as he had been hoping and planning for. He made his way to another door on the rightmost wall of the large room. It looked like a manufacturing building from the construction belts and the many gears in the ceiling that twisted and turned as one with each other, moving the belts below. But Vegeta didn't have time to contemplate the mechanics and workings of the machines in the room. He just wanted to find those stupid devices and get out of here so he could start planning how he wanted to torture Frieza for murdering his father and stealing his throne before putting that slimy bastard out of his misery.

He entered through yet another door and came to a room without anyone inside. It looked almost like an office, and he didn't doubt that it wasn't one from the single desk and couple filing cabinets. He also didn't fail to notice how there was only one door. One entrance. One exit. If anyone came inside and saw him, that person would have to die quickly and quietly by his hand. There was also a closet, but Vegeta, the prince of the Saiyan race, didn't hide. He would much rather kill someone for spotting him than hide in a filthy office's closet.

Before he knew it, the next thing he did was head for the closet. He heard a voice, and instantly recognizing it as the annoyance that dragged herself along with them to his planet, all he wanted to do was hide. The last thing he needed was her to find him and be reminded of how much she either hated him or liked him. Either way wasn't in his favor, he presumed.

And, just as he shut the door and crouched inside the small space that was the dank, dark closet, the door to the office opened and he sensed the most unlikely pair in the world: Maron, the idiot, and Frieza, the master planner and deceiver. He knew it didn't take much to deceive _Maron_ , but he wondered what Frieza could have wanted from such a weak idiot. If her body wasn't of any use, and neither was her mind, then what good was she to someone like Frieza?

His mind did a bit of work, but when they began speaking, he decided just to listen for the time being.

"Don't you understand, my dear, how vital it is that you give me the information I want right now. My empire, no, my _planet_ , could be in trouble. Don't you see that what you are withholding from me could save innocent lives? And you still refuse to share what you know!"

Vegeta heard a light bulb go on in his head. Of course. If her mind and body were useless, the only thing remaining was her knowledge, as pitiful as it already was. But her knowledge was something that Vegeta didn't want to chance giving away. He could always jump out and kill Frieza where he stood, but he didn't know if he could take him on, and until his last dying breath, Frieza wouldn't allow them to have a fair fight at all. He hated to admit it, but he needed Goku now more than ever. And the fact that Maron was here couldn't have made things much worse, but it apparently did. If she told Frieza about them being here, and he didn't have those stupid gravity mechanisms, both Bulma and the raven would be the most vulnerable things on this planet, and that was only a disadvantage for them. Sheer numbers would make them lose if their mates couldn't even move to get away. Protection definitely wasn't one of his favorite things in the world; that was for sure. And Kakarot wouldn't like it much either, he knew.

"I want to be the Queen _first_! Then I will tell you what I know! We went over this already, Frieza!"

Vegeta had to hold his chuckle. He could only imagine how much that bastard wanted to kill Maron just then. Everyone knew that he had to be called by his title, Lord Frieza, or Master Frieza. Now, he probably made the people on his planet call him _King_ Frieza, as stupid and idiotic as that sounded. It didn't suit him at all, Vegeta thought humorously.

"But our marriage is already set for a few hours from now. What more could you want of me? Just tell me what I want to know now."

"Fine then. I will give you a taste of what I know, but nothing more. There were four others that came with me, and two were the same species as I am."

"Well, thank you, but you haven't even told me what planet you're _from_ , my dear." He sounded exasperated.

"And I won't, until _after_ I am the Queen."

"Very well. You needed a gravitational discharging collar, so that means that the other two that are the same species as you will require them as well. None have been recorded as missing yet, so the others must be immobile, and probably still near the space pod that they came here in. Thank you, my dear Maron," Freiza said courteously, "I cannot wait until I am wedded to such an exotic and intelligent beauty. If only I knew what your origin was."

Vegeta mentally laughed. Frieza didn't know about Kakarot's Instant Transmission technique, so he didn't know that they could be anywhere at any time. Poor, poor Frieza, he thought with a mental inferior chuckle.

"Nuh, uh, uh. Marriage first, _Frieza_ _dearest_."

"I will make an order for all the gravitational discharging collars to be destroyed immediately. You may leave and I will send someone to help you pick out a dress… My Queen."

Vegeta heard Maron giggle and walk out the door. He sat quietly and listened to Frieza speak to someone through a private intercom from the desk.

"I am to be wedded tonight," he said, and a voice through the other end of the line sounded shocked. "After I get what I want out of the female, I will call you and leave the room. I want you to enter after me and get rid of her before I go brain dead. I swear, whatever planet she came from, when I find out, her stupidity will be the death of her kind. I will speak with you after you have killed her and we will arrange for the immediate destruction of her planet."

"Yes sir," the voice came in reply. And when Frieza exited the room, Vegeta let out his held breath.


	41. A Discovery and the Beginning

**Chapter Forty: A Discovery and the Beginning of an Inevitable Death**

Vegeta opened the closet door only after he was positive that Frieza wasn't coming back. He glanced around and found his exit, opening the second door and sliding past it without a sound. He knew he had to find two of those collars before Frieza made the command for their immediate destruction all around the planet. And he didn't doubt that that slimy bastard could have them all destroyed in an instant if he wanted it to be so. Although, it would take some time to spread the word around, so he had a small window of opportunity to get what he needed. Whatever happened, he knew he had to find at least one collar for Bulma. Worst came to worst, Kakarot would just have to stay behind with his raven while he took care of Frieza by himself. But he needed Bulma to have that collar for other reasons as well…

He made his way around the compound, searching for any signs of collars being produced at the warehouse-like building. And so far, he found nothing. Not even a trace of even a single collar. It was strange. He could have sworn that when his father was still alive, he had mentioned something about the collars being made in this factory-looking compound. It was as if Frieza had given the command, and everyone had already carried out his orders. But that was impossible.

He got down on one knee behind a large cardboard box as a pair of green-skinned people with antennas walked by, discussing something in a different language that Vegeta didn't understand. When they passed, he hurried toward the exit. He decided that he was going to have no luck here in finding what he was looking for.

But what was he going to do? He couldn't walk back into Broly's house empty-handed. Bulma knew why he had gone, and he'd be damned if he went back to her, lying on that bed, unable to move, and he didn't have a way to help her. And Kakarot and his raven probably had a clue as to why he had gone off without telling them why. Kakarot was smarter than he let on, and the raven was too smart for her own good.

But what choice did he have? There weren't any collars here. The only explanation he could come up with was that he had been gone for so long that the manufactured products that were made here prior to his leaving had been discontinued or moved to another manufacturing site. But where the hell could it have moved to? He had no idea or even a hint as to where he could search next.

Vegeta swiftly made his way out of the compound and past the lazy guards that were yawning as they paced around the entrance and the front gates. Even the lookouts were half asleep. What a pathetic group of idiots, he thought, almost aloud because of how true the statement really was.

He slumped down against a thick tree and sighed. It was apparent that he couldn't return until he had something of importance to share or give to Bulma and the raven that would help them. He felt so stupid. Why didn't he just tell them to stay behind? It wasn't as if he wouldn't come back to wherever Bulma was. But of course she knew that. She had to. Just because he didn't blatantly tell her how he felt, that didn't mean that she didn't know, did it?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. What a stupid thing to think about at a time like this, he mentally reprimanded himself before standing back up and looking around again. He wasn't going back unless he had those collars, he decided with finality. So, he had no choice. He would have to find out where they were. Immediately.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma yawned, but it hurt like hell. Her lungs felt like they were pressed against the muscles on either side of her spinal column. Breathing felt like she was developing asthma, and even thinking about moving made her whole body hurt. And on top of her immobility and stress, she hadn't seen Goku since they entered Broly's house. She knew he was probably preoccupied with Chichi or something like that, but now that Vegeta hadn't returned for nearly four or five hours, she had been left alone for that same amount of time. Not even Broly came in to visit her, although she wasn't sure how much better that would have made her feel, if anything at all.

But being alone and unable to move made her feel more vulnerable than she had ever felt in all her life, and that was really saying something, especially after just starting high school, a public school with _actual_ people, almost two months ago. Insecurity and vulnerability were her two best friends when she started her life in Orange Star High.

She wondered why Vegeta hadn't come back yet. She knew she was probably just overreacting, but she truly couldn't help it. She was in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, and the person she cared about and trusted the most had left her after making a big deal about her not going anywhere where he couldn't see her.

She huffed, and it hurt her lungs again. Really, she thought questioningly. He did make a huge deal about her staying near him so he could protect her. He even told her about how, on this planet, she wasn't considered his mate, or concubine, or something like that. She didn't even remember, but she knew how important it had been to him that she stayed by his side during their time on Planet Vegeta, no matter what happened. And then he just went off and left her in this strange house that belonged to some random stranger! Bulma was so confused that thinking about her situation was starting to hurt her brain, too.

"How are you feeling?" a sudden voice called from the doorway, and Bulma had to force herself to move to look over at her guest. It was Broly, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. His expression showed that he didn't honestly care how she was doing, but then why ask her?

"Not much better. I guess gravity isn't something that I'll just get used to after a little bit of time, huh? I was hoping it wouldn't be so difficult to move, but hoping doesn't make things better, either. Oh, well. How are you are, anyway? Do you get visitors like us often?"

At first, Broly didn't reply, but he uncrossed his arms and strolled over to the side of the bed. He looked bored and as if he had something distant on his mind. "None like you," he finally replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Bulma felt the mattress strain under his weight. "But I don't get many visitors anyway, so the answer to your question is no, I don't get visitors like you and the other three very often. But… well, never mind. I shouldn't spoil you with too many compliments, otherwise your master will get angry with me. Velochia doesn't seem to like it when I'm around you. But that wouldn't make sense, now would it? Because you're only a concubine, just like the rest of them, here to serve and please your masters as commanded."

Bulma didn't fail to hear the edge in his voice when he said 'masters', the _plural_ form of the word. She didn't like this man already. Besides, if he knew Vegeta didn't like it when he was around her, then he would have stayed away if he was planning on trying to keep the peace. But clearly, he was trying to do something else, and Bulma wasn't sure she wanted to find out what that something else was.

"I brought you something to make you a bit more comfortable," Broly said offhandedly. "What with your master gone and all, I thought you might be a little lonely. I guessed that my company wouldn't do you any good, so I just brought this." He showed her a mug with a drink inside, and Bulma narrowed her eyes at the young man.

"I… can't move," she said cautiously.

"I could get you a straw if you like," he offered, reaching forward to brush the back of his hand along her jawline. The gesture almost made her shiver, but not before Goku appeared in the doorway. His stride made it seem as if he had just been passing through and happened to see the two of them in here, but Bulma knew from his expression that he had come to make sure Broly wasn't doing anything that Vegeta wouldn't have liked very much… which was just about everything, in Bulma's point of view.

"Hey guys," Goku said, cheerfully putting on an extremely convincing act. Bulma was surprised at how well he had interrupted. "I hope I'm not intruding or anything serious. I was just wondering if Velochia was back yet. He usually doesn't take so long when he goes on his little errands. And it's been almost seven hours now. The sun is already starting to go down. It'll be dark soon."

"Well, if you're so worried about your friend, then you should go look for him. I'm here, so you won't have to worry about your females. And we're in the middle of nowhere. It's not like someone is going to attack my house out of the blue, and I can hold my own."

Bulma's anxious eyes shot towards Goku. The plea they held was begging him not to leave her alone when she couldn't move. If Goku hadn't been there only a few moments ago, she didn't know what would have happened to her. And if he was gone, searching for Vegeta… she could only imagine what would happen to her.

"No, no," Goku said, waving his hand in the air to dismiss the thought of him leaving. Bulma quietly sighed in relief. "Velochia can hold his own as well. Besides," he laughed convincingly, "If he knew I went out looking for him, he'd probably kill me. You know, he's a prideful one, to say the least." He laughed once more. The butterflies in Bulma's stomach were beginning to settle.

"Hmm," Broly quickly huffed. He stood up from the edge of the bed and walked out of the room, to Bulma's thankfulness. When he was gone from sight, Goku walked over to the side of the bed. He looked down at her for a second or two.

"He'd kill me if I let something happen to you, as well," Goku said quietly, and as he headed for the door, he turned and whispered, "Please be careful." And then he was gone.

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Maron sat on the king-sized bed, awaiting the final step of her marriage. She knew that Frieza was expecting this as well, but she wasn't going to tell him anything until she was truly the Queen of whatever planet this was. She forgot, and frankly, she didn't give a damn. The only thing that registered in her mind was the fact that she was a queen and people would refer to her as such, or she could easily, with a flick of her wrist, have any person executed. Having this much power made her giddy with excitement.

And already, she was thinking about ways to be a horrible queen. She knew that both Bulma and Vegeta were on this planet, and they probably didn't want her to tell Frieza, either. She was going to have Vegeta all to herself, whether he liked it or not. She laughed to herself, loudly, so that the noise echoed around the room and vibrated her eardrums. It made her laugh all the more, hearing the laugh of the Queen.

Queen Maron. It had a nice ring to it, she thought.

Thinking about Vegeta easily prepped her for her night with her new husband. Frieza hadn't even entered the room yet and she was already panting with the mental image of her usual spikey-haired fantasy. She could just picture her hands all over his flawless body, but something was in the way. Something she hated to no end.

 _Bulma_.

That little slutty bitch was going to die. That wannabe's execution was going to be her first royal decree. And the second was going to be that Vegeta become her new play toy. He was going to be her new pet, to do with what she pleased. And _oh_ , was she going to enjoy punishing him for hurting her before. And then, when he was a good little doggy, she was going to reward him with everything that she had. She pictured all the things she would do with him, especially with such a _big_ bed that now belonged to _her_.

She scrunched her nose and pictured him naked. It made her want him all the more. She pictured his punishment being that she would have him hung by his wrists from the ceiling, with no clothes on. She would get a thick whip and some cold water and—

The doors swung open and Frieza barged inside. The doors swung behind him and closed with a loud bang. Maron flattened the sheets around her and tried to make herself look presentable for her husband.

"Maron, my love, you are now the queen of this planet, ready and willing to rule by my side for the rest of your long and healthy life. Now!" he shouted, clasping his hands in front of him and smiling, "I would like to know whether or not you know the names of these people that you came here with. And I need to know what planet you originated from. Oh, and the planets of the others that you came with, if you know such information. You told me you would share everything that you knew with me, whether I asked it of you or not, so tell me, my love, who these other people are and why they have come to my planet in such a secretive manner."

Maron frowned. "Don't you mean OUR planet, Frieza dearest?" she huffed, folding her arms over her chest and turning her head away like an immature juvenile. "And I told you before that I must truly be the queen before I tell you anything else." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and winked. "And you know what _that_ means, so I'm sure that you don't mind having to wait until after we're… _finished_." She let out a giggle that Frieza would have related more to a cackle.

Frieza hid his grimace and walked closer to the bed and his new… _wife_. "Let's get this over with so I can be done with you," Frieza mumbled inaudibly.

"What was that?" Maron laughed, motioning him closer with her pointer finger and smiling seductively. She batted her eyelashes more times than was necessary as she pulled the sheets down to reveal that she was only wearing a lacey black thong and a black and pink push-up bra.

"Oh… It was nothing."

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Vegeta half-smiled to himself as he raced around the corner and dashed out of the small complex. It was almost after sunset. He guessed that he had about a half an hour before darkness settled over this side of the planet.

He looked down at his miraculous find. Well, he thought, they weren't the gravity-changing collars or whatever they were called, but they would have to do. It already looked as if most of the collars had been destroyed all around the planet anyway, and it had only been a few hours after Frieza made the decision to give the command. He was persistent, and Vegeta wasn't going to foolishly believe that the man who murdered his father was some sort of an idiot, because he most certainly was not. But, nevertheless, Frieza clearly didn't know about _these_ …

Holding them delicately in his right hand and an arrogant smirk on his face, Vegeta ran off into the woods.

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Bulma lay motionless on the bed, as she had been doing for the past eight hours. Vegeta still wasn't back yet, and her worry had increased tenfold, especially after Broly's attempt at… whatever he had been trying to do before Goku's presence had stopped him dead in his tracks. The way he had touched her face wasn't something she wanted to experience ever again. And his hands were nothing like Vegeta's. Broly's hands had been so uninviting… so _cold_. It was almost as if she could have felt his touch alone and knew what his intentions were.

She sighed to calm herself down. As long as Goku was here, nothing could go wrong. She trusted Goku because it was apparent that he also held Vegeta's trust in the palm of his hand, and he wasn't about to take advantage of that fact. He was truly a reliable friend and Bulma was happy that he had been paired with Vegeta when they were born. She didn't know what would have happened to Vegeta if he didn't have someone he could trust the way he trusted Goku. He might have destroyed Earth as soon as they landed those five years ago. It seemed unreal, but also as if she had escaped death by a hair.

"Any better than last time I asked you?" Broly's now-familiar voice asked from the doorway again, and Bulma would have jumped if she could move enough to do so. "I know you don't like me," he said, out of nowhere, and Bulma's first instinct was to tell him it wasn't true. But she managed to hold her tongue nonetheless. "I was just wondering if you still wanted that drink I offered you."

Bulma rolled her eyes to look over at the box that was supposed to be a nightstand. The drink was still there, and she was a bit surprised because she had forgotten all about him leaving it there after he had gone. She supposed that it was because she had been so relieved that Goku had interrupted them. She silently wished that he would do it again, and sooner than later, if she felt like being picky.

"Look," Broly continued, pulling something out from behind his back, as if it was a surprise for her. "I brought the straw because I know you can't move very well."

Bulma kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to say that she wanted it. All she could think about was how much she was afraid of this man, who was probably not much older than she was. He didn't look scary at all, and he was being so kind, but Bulma wasn't easily fooled by appearances and preconceptions. She saw the way he looked at her when Vegeta and Goku had introduced themselves. And she wasn't about to pass it by her like nothing had happened. Bulma Briefs wasn't an idiot.

But how could she say no to him, even if he was pretending to be nice to her and putting on a puppy-dog face for her. She only kept quiet to buy Goku some time. Where the hell was he anyway?

"Here," Broly said, apparently taking her silence as her answer, which seemed to be yes in Broly's eyes. He walked over to the thin-wood box that was Bulma's nightstand and dropped the straw into the mug that sat there, causing the hollow box to dent a bit on the top. It didn't look sturdy in any way, shape, or form. In fact, it looked like it would topple over any second now.

Broly picked up the mug with the straw now inside and moved it towards Bulma's mouth. Her muscles tightened and when she released them for only an instant, a bolt of pain shot up her legs from the gravity and the pressure of her clenched muscles. She let out a yelp that sounded more like a cry for help than she had originally planned, and she heard the rushed footsteps of someone running through the small house in the middle of the woods.

 _Goku_ , Bulma thought. But instead, Vegeta raced into the room. In another instant that Bulma blinked and missed, Broly was on his feet, the mug and straw in his left hand, and an expression on his face that showed more shock than fear, to Bulma's dismay.

"Velochia," he said firmly, as if nothing had just happened, "You're back. I didn't know. I would have made some for you, as well," he said, lifting the mug high so Vegeta would glance at it and understand what he meant by "it". Although, thankfully, to Bulma, he didn't seem to care about Broly's homemade drink. She knew that his expression betrayed held in anger and maybe even a bit of concern. She also knew that it was probably because of her fear, and her shout from the pain of the gravity when she had tried to move.

"Get out of my way," Vegeta commanded, bumping Broly's shoulder as he walked past him, nearly knocking him over in the process. He bent down next to the bed and pulled something out of his boot. It looked like a clear tube, but he pulled the cap off and Bulma saw that it was a needle with an unknown liquid inside.

Without even taking a single look at her, he grabbed Bulma's forearm, pulled up her sleeve, and stuck the needle into the crook of her elbow. Bulma held in her yelp and squeezed her eyes shut. Vegeta clearly wasn't used to giving people shots, especially an Earthling that was on a planet that was ten times the gravity of her own.

"Ouch," she said, trying to give him the message that he was hurting her.

"Stop whining, woman," he said, pulling the needle out when all of the liquid had been injected straight into the vein in the middle of her arm. "This will let you walk around, but it probably won't take the full effect for a couple of hours."

"What does it do?" she asked, "I thought you said that you were getting a device of some sort."

"This was all I could get, and it'll have to do. I gave Goku the other to give to the raven," he replied, almost as if he was disappointed and a bit frustrated with himself for not having the device. Bulma lifted her eyebrow in question when he called Goku by his Earthling name. "And the liquid will lower the density of your bones and the thickness of your blood. Although it will feel like you're back on Earth, your body will actually be much weaker, so you have to be careful and stay close to me, like I told you before."

"Yeah, about that—" Bulma opened her mouth, preparing to reprimand him for just leaving her alone… with Broly… But she was instantly shut down.

"Your blood is thinner, which means that it won't clog up like it should if you happen to get a deep wound. You should be fine if you get something small, like a paper cut, and I won't let you take any hits anyway. Goku and I will do the fighting. Your blood will be almost the same thickness as water. As for your bones, losing their density will also make them softer. They won't break from you hitting something, but you'll bruise much easier. It doesn't really matter though, because a hit from a Saiyan would have killed you before. There's not much of a difference there."

"Great," Bulma said, trying to move and failing, "So, what you're trying to say is that you've turned me into a hemophiliac."

"No. What I was trying to say is exactly what I just said, woman," he added with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest and standing up.

He looked down at her, but then narrowed his eyes. He turned around and Bulma noticed that Broly was still in the room. He had heard everything that Vegeta had said… That was why he had called Goku by his Earthling name. Bulma thanked herself for not accidentally calling Vegeta by his real name. That would have been a complete disaster.

"What do _you_ want?" Vegeta asked arrogantly before walking over and slamming the door shut in Broly's face.


	42. A New Plan

**Chapter Forty-One: A New Plan**

Bulma sat up and gently moved each one of her muscles. She stretched out her fingers and wiggled her toes. She straightened her back and stretched her arms over her head as she yawned. When her hands came back down to her sides, she looked over at Vegeta, on the bed next to her, and smiled at him.

"You're gaining your mobility much quicker than I expected. The serum wasn't made for your species, but it seems to be working just the same as it does for the one it was originally designed for," he said.

"Do you know which species it was made for?" she asked, but Vegeta just shrugged, seeing the matter as unimportant. Bulma sighed. "So what now?" she asked him, looking up at the ceiling as if it had the answers written on it. "You stop Frieza, right? And I'll just stay here with Chichi until you and Goku get back, I guess."

"Hmm," he replied, and Bulma crossed her arms at his half-answer. "I don't want to leave you alone with that brainless fugitive, and I doubt that Kakarot thinks much differently about his raven. But we need a way to keep you two from getting involved unintentionally in my battle. Especially in your weakened states, it wouldn't end well if you encountered anyone on this planet. No offense, but so far, I think you're the weakest species on my planet, and that's even without the serum."

"Gee, thanks," Bulma mumbled. "That's reassuring."

"So you have to hide, and you have to do it perfectly because I might not be close enough to fix your mistakes. One fault and it could be the end of your life. You won't even have to think about going back to your home planet. You'll just be over."

Bulma paused. "Earth…" she said, thinking out loud, "But if you were going to take back your throne after you kill Frieza… then wouldn't you have to stay here? Why would I want to go back?"

"Because of your parents and your life. And it's not like you'll never see me again if I own my planet again. I can do whatever I want as the king of a world. And I can better protect your species from here anyway. But I'll visit, and I'll send you a shuttle so you can come here when you feel like it."

"That's it then?" Bulma asked. "You wouldn't want to come live on Earth anymore after all this is over? You would rather stay here?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice," he said, but then decided to stop the current conversation. "Besides, we have bigger problems than that. We have to deal with the present before we start thinking about what could happen later on. Maron was apparently found by Frieza and is going to be killed later tonight."

"Why is that a problem?" Bulma asked, and Vegeta lifted an eyebrow at her. She felt a little bad about saying it, but her thoughts sometimes came out of her mouth before she got the chance to decide whether or not to actually say them.

"That wasn't the problem," Vegeta simply replied, "The problem is that she is going to tell Frieza that we're here, if she hasn't already. That's why I had to give you the shot instead of the device. It was the only thing I could find. Frieza ordered their immediate destruction because he knew that the same species as Maron was on our ship and she couldn't move with the gravity. He also plans on destroying your planet because of Maron's stupidity and annoyance to him. It's his form of payback because she's withholding information that he wants."

" _What_?!" Bulma's jaw dropped. "You mean that Frieza thinks everyone on Earth is as dimwitted as she is? We're doomed. You can't be serious. What can I do?"

"Nothing. Kakarot and I have to destroy Frieza before the end of tomorrow. That way, even if he makes the order tonight, I can call it off by tomorrow and no harm will have been done to your planet yet. But we have to find out how to do that because now Frieza is going to know about our unexpected arrival by dawn."

"Unless we can get rid of Maron before she tells him about us," Bulma suggested, but Vegeta shook his head.

"Unlikely," he said, "She could have told him already for all we know. She could be dead by now as well. Going after her is a shot in the dark and it wouldn't help us in any way if we came out with the short straw. In fact, it would hurt our chances of winning this battle and, for you, getting home at all. We just need to come up with something that won't give us away. He'll be expecting both Kakarot and I to attack him sooner than later, so he'll probably have his most powerful guards with him once he finds out, if not already. And we have to do it quickly or your planet could be destroyed before we make our first move."

Bulma sighed. There was always some insane problem that threatened to ruin her life forever. Well, ever since she met Vegeta and learned about his true character. But what else could an alien bring, other than trouble? And it wasn't always a bad kind of trouble, either. But there was another topic that she didn't want to pass by so easily.

"So, after all this is over, you've decided that you're going to stay here and send me home?" she asked.

"Don't you miss your parents?" he responded, and Bulma frowned. He wasn't answering her question on purpose.

"Of course, but I miss everyone that's important to me when I'm away from them," she said, hinting on what she wanted to talk about, although she guessed that Vegeta was playing stupid because there was something he didn't want to say to her. Was it that he loved her? Was it that he didn't love her like he used to and he was tired and bored? Did the appeal of his planet override his appeal for her? She wanted to know the answers, but she knew that the only place they were hiding was inside Vegeta, and he didn't want to talk about it.

Vegeta made a noise and turned his head, as if it was his answer to her implying statement.

"Why won't you just talk to me about this? I can tell what you're doing, and I'm fine with telling you that I don't like it all that much. I want to know why you've decided to stay here after what we've gone through back on Earth. What happened between when we left my home and now that changed your mind? Was it Maron? Was it that you're worried about something? Don't you know that you have to trust me by now? I can't walk blindly. Not here, on your planet. You know that."

"I know that when Frieza is dead at my feet, this planet and its people are going to need a new leader, and they are going to look to me to play that role. Leaving without claiming my title would be an obvious sign of weakness, and others would try to kill me for the throne, my father's throne, _my_ throne. I can't have that. The only thing that happened to me between our departure and now is the realization of what I've come here to do. And that is to take back this planet in my father's name, and his father before him."

"But then why did you say that I would have to go back to Earth? I feel stupid for thinking this, but I get the feeling that you don't want me to stay with you."

"Don't be naïve, Bulma," he replied scornfully, and she couldn't help but lower her head at his tone and the unexpected use of her name. He was using it more often, she realized. "You know how weak you are compared to my people. You would be a constant liability here, even with me at your side. At least, back on your planet, I know that you can defend yourself against your own kind. One bullet kills an Earthling. Combat kills Saiyans, and the strongest survive, and the weak always perish. In simple terms, I wouldn't be getting much sleep."

"You make it sound as if I stay here, assassins will be after me or something," Bulma said, giggling to try and lighten the mood a bit. Although, she was still a bit worried about Vegeta's hasty decision to part when this mess was done and over with.

"And you don't think that the mate of the king would draw any unwanted attention?" he asked, and Bulma tilted her head. "Either by desirous males or resentful whores. It would be like being the queen. And mutiny isn't small talk for the dinner table, as my father taught me when I was younger, and again because of his death… his murder," he corrected himself. "If you lead a planet, or country back on Earth, there will always be people who want to get rid of you. And because my species is a warrior species, it's more likely that an individual without power will be threatened. And just because you are physically weaker, that doesn't mean you can't hold a position of authority. And if you were known as my mate, then you would absolutely hold that position. And you're life would be persistently endangered."

Bulma couldn't argue with Vegeta when she knew that he was right about her safety, which he always was when he brought up the depressing subject. But that didn't mean that she didn't want to argue with him anyway. In her point of view, it was worth risking her safety to stay with Vegeta. Death was the same as being apart from him, but she knew that she couldn't act childish right now because death was the topic of her life at that moment. And she hoped that she could have the opportunity to change his mind before he killed Frieza and sent her on her way.

So, she just nodded and then shook her head with a sad smile. "No," she said, "You're right. I was just being selfish, is all. I guess I'm safer on Earth after all."

Vegeta didn't respond. Instead, he stood and walked over to the closed door. Before opening it, he said, without looking at her, "Just watch out for our hospitable host. I wouldn't say that you're safe until I've killed that bastard." Bulma was about to say something in Broly's defense, but she stopped herself. And Vegeta continued. "I won't wait until he's openly tried to rape you, woman, to say that I want him dead. I don't like him, and I know what he'd do if he ever got the chance."

"Where are you going?" Bulma asked suddenly, knowing that if she didn't say anything, he'd leave the room, and her, behind him, for whatever reason. The questions had come out of instinct for her wanting him to stay with her. But she knew that if he planned on going, then prolonging his departure wasn't going to get her anywhere.

"To kill Frieza. This stupidity has gone on long enough, and I want that slimy murderer to bleed dry at my feet. I want to watch the life slip from his eyes as I choke the life out of him. And then I want to come back and come up with a painful way to rid my planet of Broly without killing him. I'll probably send him to some planet where he won't be able to breath after a little while, or something like that. Maybe a hot planet without any sources of water…"

Vegeta made a show of being deep in thought as he exited the room and shut the door behind him, leaving Bulma to stare at the wood frame in wonder and confusion.

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"Kakarot," Chichi heard Vegeta whisper, and she looked over at the door. Goku sat up straight and stretched before standing and walking over to see what his partner wanted.

"Thanks for whatever was in the needle," he said, pointing over to Chichi, "I'm guessing that it worked just as well for Bulma as it did for Chichi."

"I'm leaving," Vegeta said monotonously, and Goku tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked, and Chichi pursed her lips. She knew why, but then why was he telling Goku this now?

"I have to kill Frieza, and I'm going to do it alone. But I need you to do something while I'm gone. I won't be here to protect Bulma, and you can't be in two rooms at once to guard both of them without Broly noticing that something is wrong, and the last thing we need is for Frieza to know where our mates are after taking those injections."

"Huh?" Goku said, "Wouldn't it be safer if they came along. We could just tell Broly that we're leaving and we could hide Chichi and Bulma somewhere where they wouldn't be found while we took down Frieza together."

"We already have a hiding place. Moving would be a risk that I'm not willing to take. What I need you to do is ask Broly to leave the house with you and the raven until I get back. No one knows where we are because of Broly's need to hide from the people that would otherwise kill him. He wouldn't have chosen this spot to live if he didn't think it was safe and secret, even if only a little. And if both Broly and the raven are with you, then you can keep an eye on him and guard her at the same time. And you won't have to worry about Bulma because no one will be able to find her."

"Why are you in such a rush?" Chichi called from her cross-legged sitting position on the bed. She just got her question in as Vegeta was about to leave the room.

"Maron is going to tell Frieza that we're here, and I'd like to get the advantage of surprise before he realizes the truth of our arrival, specifically mine, whereas the prince of Planet Vegeta has come home to claim his throne in the name of his murdered father, the king."

Chichi rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and flicked her wrist out, motioning that he could leave now, but Goku stopped him with another question.

"Do you really think that this is a good idea?" he asked. "Me taking Chichi to watch Broly, and leaving Bulma all alone? I mean, I know how well hidden this house is. It's almost impossible that someone would just stumble upon this place. But with the injection… I don't know. What if she trips over a chair leg or something? She and Chichi are more susceptible to serious injuries from minor sources because of what we've given them."

"She'll be fine by herself. This shouldn't take me longer than a couple of hours anyway." He smirked and made his way out the door.

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Chichi stepped outside and waited for Goku. It felt good to be able to stand again and breathe without feeling like your lungs were about to explode.

And then she heard something behind her and she whipped around to find Broly, stumbling through a patch of bushes and panting as he placed his hands on his knees and came to the front door of his hidden home. Goku stepped outside and blinked a few times at the sight laid out before him.

"Uhm, are you okay?" he asked, but there was no worry or concern in his voice, Chichi noticed with a bit of amusement. Broly nodded his reply and then looked up at Chichi, and then to Goku again.

"You two going somewhere?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Goku said, "Actually we were. I just thought that maybe we could go look for some wild berries. Chichi said she liked them, and I could have sworn that I saw some around here earlier."

Broly looked at him as if he just ate a worm and Chichi felt like slapping her forehead. Vegeta told him to get Broly away from Bulma for a couple of hours, and wild berry hunting was the best thing that he could come up with. She wondered if Goku ever actually gave his own plans some background thinking to make sure that there was nothing that could go wrong.

"Wild… berries," Broly repeated, still looking at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face, like he was talking to a blubbering ten year old child. "I don't think you could have seen any earlier. You're probably just mistaken. Fruits don't really grow around here." He was talking slowly, his eyebrows creased together as if he was confused by his own words.

"Really?" Goku asked, as if missing his faulty hole in the plan. Sometimes things just flew right over his head, Chichi thought, before deciding to help him out a bit.

"Yeah, I thought I saw some, too, before," she added. "That's why I brought it up. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known that they hadn't been berries. Do you have any idea what they could have been, then?"

"Maybe nuts," Broly continued slowly, "Fruits may not grow around these parts, but there are nuts that grow underground and overhead. Sometimes they even fall to the ground. Maybe you thought they were berries." He sounded cautious, but he continued nevertheless. "I just came from back that way," he said, pointing in the direction he had come from, "And there were a few growing there, maybe a half a mile or so back."

"Wow," Chichi said, trying to sound enthusiastic about the news, which was supposed to be good news, apparently. She felt like such an idiot for continuing Goku's berry-hunting act. "I can't believe it. This place has everything. I just thought I saw the berries, and that's why I asked Goku if we could go find some, but if I knew that there were nuts, I would have gone after them as soon as we got here. And it does get a little boring here after a while."

"Especially when you can't move," Broly added casually with a chuckle, and Chichi knew that she was sweating a little. She hoped it didn't make her face too noticeably shiny. "I understand. And I'd be happy to show you the way, if you like. You'd be surprised how easy it is to get lost out here, even if we're only going a half mile north-northeast. You'd be lucky to have me along… Well, as long as Velochia and the female don't mind being left alone…"

"I'm sure they're fine where they are," Goku said, and then added for effect, "If you haven't guessed already, she's his concubine. And after he accidentally killed the last one, he really hates it when anyone makes a move on her. He'll probably appreciate the alone time, too, if you know what I mean. He hasn't mated with her since before you so kindly let us stay with you."

"I understand his pain. That female is quite the beauty, and I'd take her as my own if Velochia wasn't so protective of a simple release tool. Really, hasn't he ever heard of _sharing_?" And neither Chichi nor Goku failed to see the shrewd look Broly threw Chichi as he ended his rhetorical question with a sly smirk and lustful eyes.


	43. A Horrible Find

**Chapter Forty-Two: A Horrible Find**

It was a nice day, overall. The wind wasn't biting and the cool air wasn't cold enough to get frostbite. But it wasn't great either. Chichi would have preferred some warm sunlight on her bare arms and a cool breeze to lessen the heat. It felt like autumn, and she wasn't dressed for it because she hadn't known what the weather would be like on Planet Vegeta. Sometimes, life was a bitch.

"They're right over this way," Broly said, waving a hand towards a thick layer of bushes and thorns off to the side of the path that they were travelling on. "Through that underbrush and a little further to the west and your natural, fresh, homegrown underground nuts are. I pass by them almost every time I come out here and take this path."

"Thanks," Goku said with a smile, and Chichi felt the need to remind him that wild pine nuts weren't the reason for them being here. But she kept her mouth shut so they wouldn't get caught for the purposeful deception of their host. "Which way?" he asked, moving towards the bushes. "Over here?"

"Yeah," Broly replied. "Right through there. That's it. It's a little farther after you get through. Maybe a couple yards. You'll see it."

Goku crept forward, and when he realized that he wouldn't be able to get through the thorns while standing up, he got down on his knees and crawled underneath.

"After you," Broly said flirtatiously, waving a hand forward for Chichi to go on after Goku under the bushes. Chichi smiled to keep the act going, but she knew not to be fooled by his flirting. She knew all he really wanted was Bulma and he was probably focused on getting back as soon as possible. The fact that he thought that Vegeta was still there was probably keeping him entertained there with the two of them instead of running back home or rushing them to get what they wanted in the middle of nowhere and leave sooner than later.

Chichi got on her knees and placed her palms on the ground in front of her. She could smell the sap on the bush as she went, headfirst, underneath the thorns. This was one instance where she was glad that she was kind of short for a girl her age. But she cursed her long black hair for being so thick because the tiny twigs and leaves were getting stuck to the top of her head. But when her head was all the way under, and she could only move forward, she felt something that made a vein pulse on her forehead. She already knew that Broly was going to be following after her and Goku, but grabbing her from behind was a little much.

"Cut it out, will you?" she said angrily, under her breath, trying to turn her head around to see him, but the underbrush was too thick and too thorny.

"Sorry," came Broly's reply from behind her, "I slipped. It's just a little muddy back here."

Chichi silently growled. It hadn't rained at all since they arrived on the planet, so how did he expect her to believe that there was mud on the ground? But she took his apology with clenched teeth and continued forward on her hands and knees. Goku was probably out already and collecting the stupid pine nuts.

And then she felt her ankle grabbed in something tight, which she recognized as what could only be Broly's hand, and she was pulled backwards, back through the bushes. She felt a few thorns scratch across the skin on her arms and she winced at the stinging from it. But then she was back where she started, and when she stood, Broly was standing there, smiling at her like a child that had done something wrong and he knew it. Like a child that wanted to be punished and was expecting it.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" Chichi said, shaking her fist in the air for emphasis. "Why did you drag me through _thorns_? No offense, but didn't anyone mention that both Bulma and I were given some stupid shot that makes us more vulnerable. I don't even know if this is going to stop bleeding." She looked at the paper cut-like scratches on her arms and one painful one under her elbow. She felt one on her back as well, but she knew that it wasn't that bad.

"It's okay," Broly said slyly, and Chichi narrowed her eyes. How could he say something like that? "I'll be gentle with you."

Chichi froze, but not before Broly was advancing on her. And before she could start running, he was on top of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing her up against a thick tree. The bark scraped against her back and the force of the impact and being squished between a tree and a Saiyan took the breath right out of her lungs, and when she breathed back in, preparing to yell for Goku, Broly's hand came up and clamped her mouth shut. She tried to struggle, but she felt so weak. His free arm was across her collarbone, holding her up. The rest of his body was pressed against the rest of hers, holding her up and making sure she couldn't squirm in his hold.

She made the loudest and most high-pitched noise she could manage with his hand cupped over her mouth. It wasn't loud, but she knew how sensitive a Saiyan's ears were to high-pitched sounds, and she knew that Goku and Vegeta had especially sensitive hearing from their long five years on Earth.

Her eyes widened and she tried in vain to get away again when she felt Broly tearing off her pants and quickly shoving his knee between hers, forcing her legs apart by sliding in his other leg and parting them himself. He shoved his hips forward and Chichi could feel the evidence of his desire pressed hard and hot against her, even through her underwear.

She watched in horror and fright as his head came down and his teeth nipped at her neck. And then he looked up at her, a lustful fog in his eyes. He smiled once, and then bit down hard on the sensitive tendon on the side of her neck. Chichi felt like vomiting and her head and vision promptly became over sensitized, making her too dizzy to see right in front of her. She could feel the blood running down her back and shoulder and she found herself thinking about death.

"Sorry, did I say _gentle_?" Broly snickered. "And I knew that you were jealous of the other concubine, so I thought I'd share myself with you, too. And I know you probably thought that I wanted her, the blue-haired beauty, but you're more exotic, you know? You were _always_ my favorite. That sleek, glossy black hair of yours and those long lashes… You're going to make me a happy man—"

Instantly, Broly was knocked to her right, onto the ground as a dust cloud floated up into the air, and she was in Goku's arms, her face buried in his chest. He was pressing something against the bite on her neck and she felt it was okay to start crying now. It took her a quick moment to figure out that the thing he was holding against the bloody bite on her neck was his shirt from the way he jumped at feeling her cold tears on his bare skin.

Chichi felt him bend down and put his hand under the crook in her leg before he lifted her off the ground. He set her against the tree she had been pressed against and she ran a hand over his chest as he slowly stood back up, letting her finger trace the outline of the muscles in his chest. She felt his nipple and as her hand fell down to his thick-muscles stomach she stroked down his thigh and her hand came to rest over his ankle.

"Chichi," she heard his voice call her name and looked up. "You're going to be fine. You've lost a lot of blood, but I need you to hold this against you neck. Do you understand? Don't let it go or it'll only get worse."

Chichi nodded and placed her hand over his crumpled up shirt, now soaked in her blood. He stood and she watched him walk over to Broly, on the ground. Either Goku had done something horrible to him, or he was one of the weakest Saiyans live, she didn't know, but he was stone cold out on the ground. And as Goku stood over him and lifted his hand, Chichi looked away. She didn't want to watch Broly get splattered all over the place.

"W—" Broly said suddenly, only getting out one sound before rolling over and coughing up a puddle of blood onto the ground. "Wait!" he coughed out, before vomiting blood again. Chichi looked away. She was already dizzy and nauseous, and she didn't want to see any more blood. She could hear him just fine without looking at him.

" _What_?" Goku barked, and Chichi had never heard him quite so angry. She had seen him angry, but not like this. She felt honored because Broly attacking her had brought this out of him, but it didn't last very long. She didn't like him angry as much as she had in the first few moments.

Broly let out a gurgled laugh, filled with blood as it leaked over the sides of his mouth and dripped onto the dry ground. "You think that you're so clever. _Both_ of you!" he spat, glaring at Chichi, too. She felt herself freeze, but Goku moved to position himself so that Broly couldn't look at her. She mentally thanked him and closed her eyes. She felt tired and it was becoming hard to keep focused on holding Goku's shirt against her bleeding wound. She wondered if it had stopped bleeding yet. "You two think that this is just one big game, don't you? The secret identities and bringing your concubines to my home. Ha! You must think that I'm an idiot or something."

Chichi could have sworn that she saw Goku nod at him, but she might have been seeing things instead from the loss of blood. She guessed that he face must have been pretty pale at that moment.

"The Prince Vegeta and his partner, Kakarot. How could they expect that no one _here_ would notice the faces of our planet's greatest known warriors? And who do they bring with them but their beautiful concubines. And right to _me_ , nevertheless. How fortunate. And Lord Frieza was going to give me my honor back. Oh, well. At least they've probably captured the prince and his female while we were out here." And then he laughed and coughed up blood onto the ground again.

"You told Frieza that we were here?" Goku asked in shock. "No…" Chichi knew where his worry was coming from and she found herself trying to stand up at the news. Vegeta wasn't really back at the house. It was just Bulma… There was no one there to protect her. "No," Goku said, more forcibly, running back over to Chichi and gently but swiftly lifting her off the ground. She watched him place two fingers to his forehead in preparation for the Instant Transmission technique. And the next thing she knew, she was looking at Broly's house. Nothing looked different about it at all, but she had the funny feeling that even Goku with his Instant Transmission wasn't fast enough. Bulma was probably already long gone by now…

A crash from behind them in the woods made Chichi jump, and if Goku had, she didn't notice it. He quickly set her down and whipped in the direction of the crash. It sounded like someone was running, and not caring what they hit along the way. It couldn't have been Broly because he was probably going to die where they left him from the look of his coughing blood. It seemed as if Goku had hit him square in the chest, hard enough to pop a lung, or at least give it a bit of a dent.

But then a familiar form came barging through the tree-line and stumbled out into the open, panting and grunting as if in pain with every exhale. Chichi watched Goku freeze at the sight of him, his ebony spikes and onyx eyes the same as always.

" _Where is she_?!" Vegeta screamed at them. "I can't feel her anywhere!" He was panicking, and neither Chichi nor Goku had ever seen him like this. And even Goku didn't think it was possible to get such a strong emotion out of him. He sounded as if he was being tortured right in front of them.

Before either of them had time to respond, Vegeta raced past them and broke down the front door to Broly's home. Naturally, the first place he checked was the bedroom that Bulma had last been seen in, but he found nothing. Goku picked Chichi up again and brought her into the house, setting her down on one of the couches in the front room. She sighed in relief when she removed his shirt and saw that she wasn't bleeding anymore, but she was still too dizzy and nauseous to stand on her own.

" _What did that fucking bastard do to her_?!" he screamed at Goku, "You were supposed to _watch_ him while I was gone! You _fucking idiot_!"

"Stop it," Chichi forced out, "Vegeta, Broly was with us the entire time. He never touched Bulma. She was here. Someone else must have…"

And then the news sunk in. Vegeta couldn't feel Bulma's energy. But then that meant that Bulma Briefs was… dead.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Maron giggled like a two-year old. Frieza had been unlike anything she had ever had in her many times in bed. Sure, his skin was an unusual color and he truly looked like an alien from outer space, but he had been more of a man than anyone she had ever had. And that was saying something. And, in fact, she was completely satisfied that she was able to catch herself such a wonderfully _talented_ husband. Not just a king to make her the queen of an entire planet, but an excellent lover as well.

She lifted her hand and made a tiny fist as she placed it over his white and purple chest. She snuggled into him and listened to his heart beat as he panted heavily from their climaxes that occurred not a moment ago. Hers had been bliss.

"How was it?" she asked, lowering her voice to sound naughty and seductive to her newfound, kingly husband for life. When he didn't respond, she thought that maybe he was too exhausted to say anything. "You were amazing," she said, caressing his chest with her hand and pressing her face closer to him, snuggling into the nape of his neck, right above his collarbone. She thought that they fit together like puzzle pieces. "I know it's crazy, but I think I love you." It wasn't exactly true, but she knew what to say at times like these, when the man was silent after having an experienced girl in bed. She was a master. She knew the types of boys that wanted to hear that she loved them and what they did to her, and she knew the boys that just wanted a fling and love was the last thing they wanted to hear come out of her mouth. Frieza's silence told her what kind of a boy he was.

"Again," she heard him whisper and she giggled again. It was the only thing he had said since he had joined her in the king sized bed for their nightly session. She hoped to have many more.

"I was just thinking the same thing, darling," she said with extra flair in her next giggle. She pushed off of his chest and sat up. She swung her leg over him and smirked seductively, licking her lips when she saw him staring at her face. She bit her bottom lip and made a show of making herself comfortable as she wiggled her hips back and forth over his stiffening manhood. He made a noise from deep in his throat that sounded like a snarl, but Maron liked it.

Then she moved her hands down to his side and reached under him, giving his tail a little squeeze before pulling it up by the tip. She licked the top of it and then violently stuck as much as she could fit into her mouth with a slurp, covering it in saliva and massaging the tip with her tongue. And as she discovered earlier in the night, Frieza's tail was delicate and probably used by the females back on his planet to get the males to do what they want, because when she pulled it out of her mouth and just sucked on the tip, he grunted and his mouth opened as he loudly panted. She gave the lower part, the thicker part, of the tail a rough massage with her fingertips. She rolled her fingers up and down until Frieza was nearly out of breath from panting so hard. She released his tail and placed her hands on the bed on either side of his face, palms down, and began to ride him like a horse, pressing her hips against his as she rocked back and forth, using the support from her hands above and her knees on either side of him. She rolled her eyes back and opened her mouth as she screamed at the ceiling, pretending that riding him was giving her an intense amount of pleasure.

"Oh, sweetheart!" she screamed, throwing her head back down and shoving her lips over his, biting and gnawing at his bottom lip as she continued to rock her hips over his tight erection. She pushed her way into his mouth with her tongue, eating his saliva and whipping her hair over so that it was in his face every now and again. She ripped her mouth away from his in a violent motion and brought her mouth down to his collarbone, nipping at the skin and running her rough tongue over his left nipple over and over again until it was as hard as a rock. She sucked on it before lifting herself back up with an excited smile and wide eyes. She shoved herself up and pressed her chest into his face, rubbing it there until his hands came up to push her away. She laughed at him, kissed him delicately on the lips to say she was sorry, and then went back to running her teeth over the other nipple and rocking over his pulsing, slightly-leaking erection. But she wasn't going to give it to him just yet. She was going to thank him for the wonderful job he did the previous time, and she'd be damned before he tempted her into giving it to him too soon.

"Oh, oh, _OH_! Oh, my _love_! Oh, _Freiza_! You're _so_ _amazing_!" she yelled. "I _want_ you," she said violently, bringing her lips down to his right ear and whispering, "I want you so badly, Frieza. I _need_ you in me. I want you to _fuck_ me _long and hard_ and I want you to love _every_ _minute_ _of it_." And then she swiped her tongue over his ear and sucked on the lope, biting it gently a few times.

She scraped her nails across his stomach and brought her head down, licking where she had scratched him and pushing her tongue hard against his pink and purple skin. She gripped his sides with her hands and dug her fingers into him, roughly massaging him as she made a show of turning her head and attempting to swallow him whole. She made her breathing sound heavier and panted as she slid her hips down to his legs and brought her mouth dangerously close to his pulsing member. She took a moment to smile up at his with a shameless look in her eyes before swinging her legs over him again and placing her bent knees on either side of his head, her mouth only inches away from his large and tight manhood.

She placed her hands, palms down, on either side of his member, squeezing his upper thighs to tell him what was coming. But then she jumped, unexpectedly feeling a jolt of pleasure from down below. Frieza' tongue came back up and licked her labia, shimmering with her juices, showing that she was ever ready, but it wasn't coming just yet. He would have to wait for that part, and she was going to torture him with the pain of waiting for the ultimate pleasure. But Maron felt him cup her with his mouth in the entirety, making a shiver run up her spine and she shuddered. But she was experienced, and she knew she couldn't be outdone by any man. Not even what seemed to be the best she had ever had, and he was slipping his tongue into her, trying to outdo her, she suspected.

She flicked her tongue over the tip of his member and felt him give a pause to all his movements against the lower half of her eager body. And before he regained control, she cradled his sac in her hands and gave them a gentle caress. She felt his back tightened beneath her and she squeezed him, massaging gently until he started leaking again and she heard his breathing pick up its pace. She flicked her tongue over the tip again as she continued to massage his balls, licking up and swallowing the thick clear liquid that she had swallowed so many times before.

"Oh, _Freiza_ ," she said seductively, admiring him, "You're so _handsome_ from down here. I've never seen you from this angle. And what a _view_ ," she laughed. She grabbed his member and squeezed it so she could feel the inviting pulse of blood inside of him. She started off slowly, bringing him up and then pushing him down, pulling him towards her and then pushing him down again. She noticed that he had stopped whatever he had been doing with his head between her legs and gave a triumphant smile when she knew he wouldn't see it. She then began pumping him, gently, and still slowly. She giggled when she felt his hips pushing up against her dainty hands, his body begging for more and the release that she knew he desired more than anything else in the world at that moment. She waited a minute before switching gears and pumping him a little faster. His body went through a few spasms below her and he started to grunt between his breathy pants and throaty growls. After another minute or two, she decided to give him what he wanted, pumping him quickly and then grabbing him with both hands and shoving him up and down as she brought her legs down to his stomach to help her add force to her jackhammering rhythm.

But when he let out a scream, she paused all movement, knowing that she didn't want him to orgasm just yet. She heard him yell at her for it, but she was too into what she was doing to him to even listen. She didn't really care what he had to say anyway. It was nothing important. He was so far into the realm of carnal pleasure that he probably felt sort of drunk. Nothing he had to say would mean anything to her.

She swung her legs back over so that she was facing the same direction that he was, and her face was above his hips, her legs parted over his. She flicked her tongue over him and he arched his back, groaning from his lack of release when he thought it had been coming. She felt so evil and sexy at the same time that it almost made her burst out laughing right in front of her new husband.

" _Relax_ ," she whispered, " _Easy_ … _Gentle_ …" And then she grabbed at him again with one hand and slid the other underneath him, between his legs. He lifted his middle when she began to pump him again, giving her the access she needed, pushing her pointer and middle finger into his hot heat. She had so much familiarity in finding the prostate that it almost came as natural for her. And she knew she was right on top of it when she pushed into in and Frieza screamed at the top of his lungs in lust and hunger for more.

She listened to every sharp inhale and every screaming exhale that came from her lover's mouth as she pumped him with one hand, bringing him up, and then pumping him down, shoving him onto her perfectly placed fingers. Each movement brought him closer to his climax, and when he arrived, Maron thought it only fair to let him have it. She laughed at his pleasure as she cupped her mouth over his member, waiting for the liquid to spray out.

When it subsided, she swallowed her mouthful and rolled over to the side, panting and glad that she still had the wonderful ability to make her men happy. And she knew that after giving him such a release, she wouldn't let the night end until he had repaid her in full, and maybe with some interest. She listened to Frieza's breathing for what seemed like an eternity until the room was almost perfectly quiet. Then she pulled herself up to meet him, pecking him on the lips.

"How was _that_?" she asked proudly, making her voice sound eager and ready for more, especially on his part.

"Perfect," came the simple and impassive reply, "I almost hate to have to get rid of you. You're very good at this. You'd be an excellent concubine for me to keep around, but I'm afraid I'll go brain-dead if I stay with you any longer."

Maron lay there, silent for a moment. And then she laughed. It was just a joke. What man could get rid of her after that? Not just a king, and not just an extremely talented lover, but a guy with a sense of humor, too. She really hit the jackpot with this one. This was definitely Mr. Right for her.

But before she knew what was happening, Frieza's hands came up and cupped her face. "My dear," he said, "I would love to show you another good fuck for the remainder of the night, but I'm afraid that you haven't kept your promise. I thought that you were going to tell me what I wanted to know, and then I was going to give you the best night of your life, but…"

"I'm from Earth!" Maron blurted. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. "The other two that were the same as me, from Earth, were girls. But they're total bitches. I order them dead, by the way, and the other two were boys. One of them is a bozo named Goku, who's girlfriend is the black-haired one by the way, and the other is the dreamy, arrogant, sexy Vegeta Ouji… But I hate him! And his little blue-haired whore! And he's _nothing_ compared to _you_ , Fr—"

Frieza took his hands, already on Maron's face, and pushed the top to the left and her jaw to the right. He heard a snap and smiled. How pathetic she truly was, even after all of that. He sat up and then stood. He walked over to the door and opened it. As expected, there was a guard waiting for his orders. He seemed a little shocked when he saw what was inside the room. "I want you to throw out that bed and anything on it. And I want a better one as the replacement. I want it in one hour, or I'll kill you as an example for the other guards."

The guard bowed nervously and dashed into the room, preparing to get rid of the bed. Frieza turned and hit the communication button on the side of the wall next to the door.

"Zarbon," he said into the small speaker, "I'm getting a divorce."

"Well, My Lord, the marriage wasn't exactly real. It was just to fool the idiotic girl that had what you wanted, right?"

"It was a joke, Zarbon," Frieza sighed. "I'm disposing of the body now. She came from a planet called Earth. I want you to give the order to destroy that filthy planet in the morning. I just want to go to bed right now. I've had a rough night."

"I'm sure you have, My Lord, but we have urgent matters to attend to." Zarbon sounded nervous for asking Frieza to do something after he said that he was tired and wanted to go to sleep for the night.

"Urgent matters? What urgent matters?"

"Well, I've sent the henchmen to Broly's home, as you ordered, but there was only one person there. We've taken her captive and surrounded her with an energy field so that no one can sense her, not even a Saiyan's unique senses. But I have no idea who she is or what she's doing here on Planet Vegeta. Neither Goku nor Vegeta were in that house. Maybe Broly was lying to get attention. Should I give the order to hunt him down and kill him, Lord Frieza?"

"No, no," he said quickly, remembering Maron's last words. "You said it was a female… What color hair does she have?"

"Uhm… It's a light blue, My Lord… May I ask why such a thing would be relevant to our situation?"

"Because, that blue-haired female is going to bring us the prince. And I'll be lying in wait for him in the morning. If this female is really the young prince's mate, then it's only reasonable that he should _die_ for her."


	44. The Idea of Revenge

**Chapter Forty-Three: The Idea of Revenge**

Vegeta wasn't yelling anymore, but his silence was more frightening to both Goku and Chichi than when he was running around Broly's house, screaming like he'd never screamed before. Now, he just sat in the room where Bulma had been seen last, sitting on the rickety bed in what seemed to be the silence of the universe. Goku and Chichi waited outside, not sure if they should try and talk to him or not. After what Bulma had done to him by just existing, they didn't have to say that they were scared of what would happen now that she was… they didn't want to even think of the word or what it would mean if they said it or believed it was true. And telling Vegeta that everything would be okay and Bulma wasn't really gone would be like shooting in the dark, but with a room filled with ricocheting walls that would bounce the bullets back at you if you hit the wrong place by accident.

The only thing to do was to continue with the plan, and try to focus on the task at hand. It was a long shot, but they didn't want to let go, especially now, when they knew that they had to place their attention on more pressing matters. And that was because Freiza was still out there, threatening to now kill each and every one of them. Goku and Chichi just hoped that the appeal of rejoining Bulma wasn't too much of a magnetic pull for Vegeta. They just wanted him to know that they were there and they still cared about him, and he would be hurting them if anything were to happen to him, either by accident or on purpose.

But Frieza still had to be taken down. Goku was confident in his abilities, but he didn't know what Frieza could do or how high his power level went. He was still controlling Planet Vegeta without being the rightful heir, and while the prince was still alive nevertheless. It was like a different branch of mutiny, and Vegeta was the only one who could put a stop to his illegitimate rule over the planet. Goku just hoped that Vegeta realized how important he was to the planet's survival and well-being, because Frieza was well known for his impulsive actions when it came to destroying things. Planet Vegeta wasn't safe under his command. That part Goku was positive of.

Goku took in a long and big breath before making his way over to Vegeta, his head down as he sat on what used to be Bulma's bed, given temporarily to her by Broly. It seemed even sadder because he was silent, as if mourning, which Vegeta never did. But Goku knew what had to be done.

"Vegeta…" he began gently, stepping under the doorway and forcing a small smile. His Saiyan partner didn't even look up to acknowledge him. "Vegeta… I'm so sorry…" He didn't know what else to say. He felt horrible about losing Bulma, but he knew it couldn't be pushed aside as easily for Vegeta, no matter how urgent the planet's problem was. "I know how you felt… I know how you feel now… I also know how Bulma felt about you, and I can picture what she'd say if she could talk to us now."

Vegeta's silence still scared Goku more than anything else he could have done. He wasn't making any rude comments. He wasn't insulting him. He wasn't shouting about how Goku didn't understand what he felt at all. He wasn't even lifting up his head. He was just sitting there, like a quiet statue. Goku wondered if he even heard him speaking at all.

"She would probably give us encouragement for doing what we came here to do in the first place. Well, she would probably give you the encouragement. Chichi and I would just get a pat on the back," he said, attempting at lightening the mood. But the tension was thick for him. He didn't know what to say, and honestly, he had no idea how Vegeta was feeling. Lost, maybe. He didn't have a clue. "But she would tell you that she loves you, even if you already know it. Bulma did love you, Vegeta," he said firmly, "That was more obvious than a black dot on a white paper."

"And don't you worry about her side of that," Chichi said, walking into the room to stand next to Goku. "She told me all the time that she knew how much you cared for her, too, Vegeta. She knew exactly how you felt, even if you didn't say every detailed word of it. But I know that she certainly wouldn't want you to believe that she didn't know how you felt. And if Goku didn't tell her more than a few times, then I certainly had a hand in it as well."

"Vegeta, we have to take care of Frieza right away, or it might be too late," Goku said softly, pressing the urgent matter, but trying to be gentle about it. The combination wasn't working well for him. "You said that he knows that we're here, so we have to move quickly. We can't just sit here and wait for our deaths, because that's what will come here. Frieza is bound to send his men after us, and that's if he doesn't decide to come after us himself. And don't forget about his annoying group of idiots, Ginyu and his cronies. It's not like we can't handle them, but anyone can be a distraction when fighting someone more powerful. It doesn't always take strength and power to win a fight. You could have all the power in the world, but if you just sit here, you're going to either be killed or captured."

"The nail that sticks up is the one that gets hammered down," Chichi added, trying to say something that would get him to snap out of it. He still stared at the floor, unmoving.

"You have to listen to us. Staying here and feeling bad isn't going to help anyone. It's not going to bring her back, no matter how badly you want her to be here. Vegeta, you have to get up. At least say something to us. We aren't the bad guys here. We're your friends, and we would do anything for you. All you have to do is ask us and we'll help you."

Chichi took a step forward to try and get his attention, but it didn't work. "I know we aren't Bulma, but sometimes you have to settle for what you've got, okay?" she said heatedly, but tears were forming in her eyes. Goku placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Please, Vegeta. Just say something. We have to get out of here before we're attacked or something. You have to think about what you're doing. I have to get Chichi away from here. All it takes is three weak henchmen to harm her, or two, because it doesn't look like you're going to defend yourself anytime soon. I hope I'm wrong, but you're giving me no reason to believe that you can fight your own battles right now."

"Do you think it's fair or something? Because Bulma died, you have to die, too? Why don't you think about that for a minute? If you died, what would you have Bulma do? Would you have her sit around, waiting for death to take her back to you, or would you have her stand and fight, doing what's right?"

"Bulma wouldn't want this, Vegeta," Goku said, walking forward so that he wasn't a foot ahead of Vegeta. "You know that. I know you do. So what the hell are you doing this for? What could you possibly gain out of sitting here, not talking to us? We need to know what's going on in that head of yours. And as much as you despise sharing your thoughts with anyone but yourself, you're going to need to let go of your pride for a moment or two, however painful that might be for you. Snap out of it, Vegeta!"

"Talk to us!" Chichi shouted, walking forward to stand next to Goku again. "Vegeta, this isn't fair! We miss her, too. We miss her very much, but we need to grieve later. We don't have the time, and she wouldn't want us to mourn at a time like this, when we need to take down Frieza. She wouldn't want you to abandon us like this! Bulma would be disappointed in you!"

"Vegeta, listen to her! Listen to me! We need you now more than ever and you're failing us! You're the prince of this planet, and you need to be fit to rule after we take care of Frieza for murdering your father! Have you forgotten what he's done to this planet? Have you dismissed all the people he's killed? Don't you remember that he plans to destroy Earth?! That's Bulma's home, Vegeta! That's Chichi's home! That's been our home for the past five years, and you just don't care about it?! How could you be so cruel? So heartless? _Stand up_!" Goku grabbed Vegeta's shoulder and gave him a violent push.

Vegeta rolled back and then looked up, blinking as if waking from a deep sleep and his eyes hurt from the bright light of morning. Then he stood and brushed himself off. He looked at Chichi in curiosity and then to Goku.

"Did you say something?" he asked, and Goku just stood there, blinking a few times. Chichi did the same. "Well?" he asked, heading for the door. "Are you coming or not?"

"Coming…? _Where_?" Goku managed to ask in his confusion and stupor.

"To kill Frieza, of course. He stole my heart. I think it's only fair that I rip _his_ out of his chest, shove it up his ass, tear off his balls and stuff them down his throat, don't you? You weren't expecting me to just roll over without exterminating the bane of my existence and the bastard who ruined my life and killed the woman that I love, were you? You should know me better than that by now."

Goku couldn't even nod. He guessed that maybe he should have known better after all. "You go on ahead," he squeaked, "I'm going to… find a place where Chichi can hide… I'll be right behind you."

"Well, don't be late, Kakarot, or you'll just be cleaning up the mess." And then he was out the door and running.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

It didn't take him long to get there, seeing as Frieza's energy level was the largest on the planet. Well, considering that he and Goku could hide their true power level. And, to be honest with himself, Vegeta had to admit that Frieza could be hiding his true power level, too. As could a bunch of other inhabitants of his planet for all he knew. He only learned about hiding his power level from boredom back when he and Goku first arrived on Earth. There was nothing else for him to do but train when Goku and Chichi got together and his Saiyan partner forbade him from destroying the human population until further notice. But, all along, Vegeta kind of knew that by until further notice, Goku was just trying to make it sound like his mind might change. How sneaky he could be, despite the image he gave off to the people around him. That was how he could be so deadly, Vegeta knew, if the need ever arose to eradicate an enemy. He was always glad that they were on the same side, although he'd never pay Goku the same compliment that he just gave him in his personal thoughts.

And although he was trying to push the other thoughts aside, Bulma kept coming back to him. Her face, her smell, her hair, the way she walked, and the nights they spent together. Vegeta knew that he wasn't the type to be sentimental about losing things, but he'd never felt so horrible, as if he'd lost a part of himself. And he didn't understand. He never even came close to feeling this way about the news of his father's murder, and he was here, taking revenge on the bastard that defiled his family name. What was he doing about Bulma's death? The same thing he was doing for his father… Then why was there that annoying stinging in the back of his eyes and that twinge of discomfort in his chest?

All he knew was that Freiza needed to die. He'd dishonored the name of his planet and his family's name for generations. His family name was so powerful that even the husbands of the daughters of his family had to take on the name. It was the name of his planet. And it was his father's name. He hadn't thought about it much, but would it have been Bulma's as well?

But the extent of what that slimy bastard did made him deserve a painful death. Vegeta didn't care how powerful he was. He was going to tear him apart for killing his father and his mate. He crossed the line for the last time, and now it was the prince's turn to react. This was his planet, and he'd be damned before he let Frieza kill his throne, too.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

"He's here, Master Frieza," Dodoria, a large pink man from an unknown species said. He was also Frieza's third-in-command. Zarbon, the green-skinned man, was second in command. And then there was the infamous Ginyu squad, who had brought him his prize not too long ago: the aquamarine-haired beauty that was none other than the Saiyan prince's mate. What a weak species she was from, though. Poor little Prince Vegeta never had very good taste in women anyway.

Frieza laughed, stepping out of his chair, his long purple tail swishing on the ground behind him in anticipation. His voice was loud and high-pitched, and he wasn't afraid to show it to the world.

"Uhm, Master Frieza, sir, we have a bit of a… a problem," Dodoria said, watching the cameras. "I… I'm afraid, sir, that Prince Vegeta just killed Guldo without warning. Guldo didn't even have the chance to freeze time…. And the prince is coming for the main chambers. I think he's after you, sire. The prince is—"

"STOP!" Frieza screamed at the top of his lungs, whipping around and facing Dodoria. His pink face went white. "He isn't the prince of _anything_! He is a little boy, with the silly idea that he can just barge in here, _my home_ , and not face the consequences of his reckless actions! I killed his stupid father! And he thinks that gives him the right to do whatever he wants! But this is my planet now, given to me by Master Cell and Lord Buu! They _gave_ it to me! It's _mine_ , and no stupid Saiyan _princess_ is going to be able to do anything about it! Do you understand me!? Never call him the prince again, Dodoria, or I'll have you executed as an example to the others! You're head on a stake will show everyone what happens when you believe that that little _boy_ is the rightful heir of this planet! I am the _king_ , and I will have my sons rule when I have gone. The Saiyan race will be ruled by _my_ bloodline for the rest of eternity!"

Dodoria was as pale as a ghost, and he couldn't help but gulp. Everyone in the room heard him swallow his fright as he bowed, getting down on his knees for forgiveness. He was smart not to speak his apologies.

Zarbon pushed open the double doors to the main chambers and swaggered into the room. He glanced at Dodoria on the ground. He lifted an eyebrow before making a noise that could only be described as disgust.

"My Lord," he said, looking away from the pink, spiky blob and bowing to Frieza, "Vegeta has arrived, and he's managed to kill two members of the Ginyu squad, Guldo and Recoome. I believe he's heading for the main chambers, sire. And seeing as you are here, I came by to see what you would have me do about the situation. Would you like me to slow him down while you prepare for his arrival, my Lord?"

"No, Zarbon," Frieza sighed, turning around and going to sit back in his chair, as if he was exhausted from yelling at Dodoria and happy to see that his loyal puppy dog had finally arrived to brighten his day. Everyone knew that Zarbon was his favorite anyway. "But you can go fetch the aqua-haired Earthling. Make sure she doesn't get away. And hide her until I announce for you to do otherwise."

"Yes, of course, my King," Zarbon replied, leaving the room and heading off to the chambers where the female was being held, as well as the room that was shading her energy level from everyone outside of the room's specially-made walls.

Frieza sat back and lifted his legs up. Two henchmen instantly placed a footstool ahead of his chair and Frieza leaned back, placing his hands behind his head as he rested his legs, awaiting Vegeta's expected arrival. He was just satisfied that he had a foolproof plan to rid himself of the bothersome prince once and for all. And once Vegeta was gone, there would be no one left to stand in his way of ruling Planet Vegeta forever.

Well, Planet _Frieza_ , actually…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Vegeta stepped over the dead body of Burter and Jiece, the third-and-fourth-worst members of the Ginyu squad, Frieza's lowly bunch of misfits that thought they were better than everyone else. Blood puddled on the floor and Vegeta laughed. He was so powerful that the Ginyu squad was now a team of one, and he doubted that Captain Ginyu was a match for him. All he was interested in was Frieza, anyway. Everyone else was just a warm-up for the climax.

Forcing Bulma from his mind yet again, Vegeta closed his eyes and recalled the layout of his father's home. He had wandered around once or twice on his own as a child, but he wasn't familiar with the entire structure, seeing as how big it was. But he knew the primary routes to the main chambers, where he knew Frieza would be waiting for him, with his cocky attitude and over-confident emotions. He was probably expecting a clean fight, but Vegeta wasn't going to play with him. He was going to go Super Saiyan instantly and show Goku that he didn't need him once he got there, even if Frieza wasn't dead by then. He knew now that the bastard couldn't be as powerful as he was. He and Goku were a special kind of warrior, a special breed, and a Super Saiyan was undefeatable. Frieza would want to die almost instantly, and Vegeta wanted him to beg for mercy and death. And he wasn't going to get either of them until Vegeta had his fill of revenge. And he had a funny feeling that it was going to be a long day.

He stood in front of the large double doors with a small smirk on his face. Forcibly shoving away thoughts of Bulma once more, and ignoring the stinging in his eyes and that stupid discomfort in his chest, he lifted his hand, palm forward, and blasted open the doors, making his way into the fight of his life.


	45. Bitter Revelations

**Chapter Forty-Four: Bitter Revelations**

Vegeta lifted his hand, palm forward, and let fly a small, dense burst of glowing energy that blasted open the double doors that lay before him. These double doors were none other than the main chamber doors of what was once his father's central chamber, from which he gave most of his commands and orders on behalf of the planet that he ruled. It used to be a sacred room, an area where you couldn't just arrive and expect to be let inside, where you had to be summoned by the King or his affiliates to enter. You could be executed for just coming near the King's command room without a probable cause or reason.

But now was no time to be nostalgic. This room, his father's room, was now defiled and humiliated because a slimy murderer now sat on the throne. Frieza was degrading his bloodline by just being present in such a room with the rightful king or prince's consent. And Vegeta would be damned before he ever gave consent to such a monster being in _his_ command station. This entire mansion belonged to him. This whole planet was his, and he was here to take it back.

"Frieza!" Vegeta shouted, stampeding into the man chambers and coming to a halt at the center circle, where guests would kneel before the throne and the king. It was customary to get down on one knee and bow to the man that sat on the throne, but Vegeta wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it for the sole reason that he knew Frieza desired him to commit to such a personally shameful act. But he would rather die than bow to Frieza. All he wanted to do was kill him. He had no other reason for being there at that moment.

"Well, well. If it isn't the little king wannabe, come home to beg on his knees for his throne back." Frieza let slip a grotesque smile, showing his teeth, saliva strands attached to each of his dry, cracked lips, shimmering. "Well, go on then. Beg for your throne… Or should I say _my_ throne. This is my planet now, Vegeta. You are weak. Just like your father was weak. And I have prepared for you. Don't insult my intelligence by thinking that this was going to be a surprise attack, either, because I knew every detail. I have cameras all over this place. You're not as sneaky as you thought you were."

"I don't need this to be a surprise. You don't deserve it. I'd rather kill you when you see me coming, Frieza," Vegeta sneered.

"Oh, well, in that case, maybe you should offer me a last request, or something along those lines," he said in reply, but Vegeta knew that he was being sarcastic. It was clear that he didn't believe that he could be beaten by a Saiyan, simply because he saw the species as inferior. It was his miscalculation, so Vegeta didn't care.

"Whatever. Name what you want." He mentally smirked. Whatever Frieza wanted most, he was going to make sure he never got it, or that he got it and it was destroyed as it sat an inch out of reach. He was going to use this as part of his revenge. If Frieza wanted something from him, he was going to destroy it, just like he killed Bulma, when he was so close to reaching her in time…

As soon as the thought of her and what was done to her entered his mind, he watched his vision go white with rage. He wasn't seeing red, but white. His rage was pure. "Name what you want, you bastard, before I tear you apart!" he screamed. A few henchmen on the edges of the room jumped at his sudden outburst. "Tell me what you want so I can destroy it before your eyes! Tell me so I can obliterate you!" The energy emanating from him was almost visible. It swirled around him like an invisible tornado, whipping his hair above his head, which only exaggerated the fact that his hair spiked straight up into the air, as if reaching for the sky and the stars.

"I don't think so, Vegeta," Frieza laughed. "I wasn't serious. Actually, I was just playing with you. I have everything I could ever want right at my fingertips. And what I don't yet have, I will have once you are dead, you're head on a stake for the entire planet to see. If you really want to make me happy, you'll kill yourself. After all, you lost the woman you love, didn't you?—"

"Don't you dare…" Vegeta hissed, and he could feel himself losing the battle of their conversation. He refused to be manipulated, but what could he do now but listen to Frieza's words. He could always attack him and get the real battle under way, but a part of him wanted to hear what the bastard had to say. A part of him needed to hear the words come out of his mouth before he killed him.

"Don't I dare what, little prince? Speak of the weakling you decided to name as your mate? I spent a night with one of her kind. The females are disgusting and I highly doubt that yours was any different from the rest. Average. After all, that is what you are, too. Normal. Nothing special about you. You are just like everyone else, and you can die just like everyone else. And you will, too, just like everyone else that I decide should die. But I guess you are a bit special. You get to be killed by _me_. You are scheduled to die by my hand. In that respect, I guess that's where your puny mate was the normal one of your pair."

"I want to know which of your filthy followers killed her," Vegeta said.

"Oh, do you now? Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" Frieza responded with another disgusting laugh.

"What's so funny?" Vegeta sneered, lowering his voice to a threatening growl. "Answer me!"

"So impatient, aren't you? I guess that's why I'm the one ruling this planet now. Hasty decisions are what lead certain species into war with others, especially warrior species like the Saiyans. So, you wouldn't be good for this planet's well-being anyway. You should be thanking me. Actually, I want you to bow before me, Vegeta. I will turn the cameras on right away." He snapped his fingers and a red light came on above his chair, Vegeta's father's throne, turned on right below where the tall ceiling started. "Now, I want you to get down on your knees and bow to me, King Frieza of Planet Vegeta, soon to be known as Planet Frieza. And you will lick my floor, Vegeta. I want you to kiss my feet and show your devotion and respect for me, my rule over this pathetic place, and my planet and my people."

"I hope you don't actually think that I would ever do such a thing, Freiza, otherwise you're in for an eternity of disappointment. You couldn't even make me bow to you if I was an inch from death."

"So…" Freiza said with a secretive snicker, "What you're saying is that I have nothing that could make you do as I command? You think that I have nothing over you, little prince?"

Vegeta didn't reply. Frieza already knew the answer to that stupid question. He could torture him all he wanted. He would never bow. But Frieza's next laugh made him narrow his eyes. What was the slimy bastard up to? What power did he think he had? What was he hiding?

"Zarbon!" Frieza called off to the right wall of the chambers, "Now would be an ideal time to bring in the package that I sent you to retrieve earlier this morning. Let's give Vegeta a pleasant surprise, shall we?"

Vegeta glanced over to the rightmost wall and watched as it opened at a part, revealing that it was actually a doorway to a separate room. He had never known about it until that moment, even with all the tours he had been on of his future home. He wondered if his father knew about it.

Out of the doorway stepped a green-skinned pretty boy that Frieza had referred to as Zarbon. And he was dragging a large capsule-like container behind him. Vegeta felt for something, some form of energy inside the capsule, but found nothing possible to sense.

"What is that? A weapon?" he asked, mocking Frieza by crossing his arms. "Nothing you have can hurt me, Frieza. What will it take for you to realize that?"

"Oh, my little prince, this is a weapon that can hurt you more than any other weapon that I own. And what a lucky find it was. I only got it in less time than it got you to arrive here— Now don't be shocked. I knew you were here almost as soon as you arrived."

This, Vegeta knew was a blatant lie. He hadn't known anything until Maron spilled her knowledge for a chance at power she could never have or even control on her own.

"Yeah, right. Maybe you should stop assuming that I know little to nothing about what you've been doing since I arrived. I know more than you think."

"Clearly, it's not everything," he said motioning to the capsule-like pod behind Zarbon, who was now standing with his arms tightly folded across his chest and his feet spread apart like a guard of some sort. Vegeta wanted to laugh at him, but focused on Frieza.

"I don't care what stupid weapon you think you have that can hurt me, but you don't know what I know, and you have nothing that can make me bow to your reign. You can go rot in hell. In fact, I think I'll give you a head start, since you're bound to be there eventually." And then he was charging towards Frieza, sitting in his father's chair.

"Zarbon! Now!" Frieza cried, and Vegeta reveled in the small amount of fear that held him frozen in place. Frieza, the slimy bastard, was actually afraid of him. It was the reassurance he needed. He was the stronger of the two, and his fear of him only proved that fact. He was going to kill Frieza and there was nothing he could do about it. Finally, the moment of revenge had come.

And then he felt it. It was like a dream come true and a nightmare at the same time. He knew what it was like a voice, calling to him, except this wasn't a voice. This was his soul. This was his heart. This was Bulma…

Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around to face Zarbon, who held his mate in a headlock. She looked absolutely pathetic. Her hair was filled with mud and it was dried in certain areas, spiking it into the air like Goku's. Her shirt was torn and her pants were in no better shape. Vegeta hated how she could have easily been called half-naked and most of the henchmen in the room were looking at her dirty form.

She looked at him with big, pleading eyes between glancing at the ground and at Freiza. She was so weak that she would be easily controlled by any more powerful species, which was practically everyone in the universe, unfortunately. But it didn't look like she had been taken advantage of. Thankfully. But what else did they do to her, and how was it that he didn't feel her energy source beforehand? He guessed that it had something to do with that secret room he hadn't known about.

One tiny movement on Zarbon's part would easily snap her neck. And she was so weak, with the serum in her blood from the injection keeping her from falling to the floor from the gravity. She could be killed almost instantaneously. He now knew just how powerful Frieza's newfound weapon was, and how powerful it could be. And he found himself actually fearing the outcome of this situation.

"Zarbon, if the little prince looks like he's even thinking about making a move that we don't want him to, I want you to break her neck."

"Of course, My Lord. She has been quite the pest lately, so I'll be looking carefully for any excuse to wring her pretty little neck. And, oh, how much fun it will be when I get the chance. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity, King Frieza."

Vegeta felt his eyes widen in shock. What was he supposed to do now? What options did he have to get out of this mess and keep Bulma alive? And how was she even here? He knew it wasn't a trick, because he knew her energy signature, and nothing fake could replicate the feeling it gave to him when he sensed it.

"Now, Vegeta…" Freiza said, regaining his authority and straightening his posture from the fearful crouch that he had put himself into when Vegeta charged at him before. "I want you to _bow_."

Vegeta refrained from using any sly retorts, but he didn't do as ordered. How could he? There was just no way. He would rather die than bow, but if he didn't, he wouldn't be the one to die. And how could he live with himself. After just getting her back…

"Frieza," Vegeta began, but he didn't know how to continue. He couldn't threaten him. Zarbon was clearly trigger-happy, and just looking for an excuse to kill his mate. He had to make a move. He had to try and save her. He had to be quick about it, though. If he gave the green-skinned pretty boy a split second to react, it would all be over. Was it even worth the risk? He was sure that Freiza would end up killing them both in the end anyway, so what was the use? Would he rather be free or alive? And who was he to make that choice for Bulma? What if she would rather live for a while longer instead of taking a chance to die right away? "Can I speak with her?" he ended up saying, and he cursed himself for how weak he sounded when the words came out. He sounded like a kicked puppy, and he felt like killing himself then and there. He wasn't going to be Frieza's pet. But he had to stay alive, he knew. He was the only reason Bulma hadn't been killed yet. As long as he was alive, Frieza needed Bulma to keep him… _behaved_ , for lack of a better word. _Controlled_ fit the situation better, Vegeta thought. But if he was dead, then Bulma would no longer be of use to Frieza, and he didn't even want to think about the things that the slimy bastard would do to his mate. So even if he hated the idea of it, he knew he had to stay alive for her sake over everything else.

His mind was made up. He would play along with Frieza's game until he found a way out of this mess for the two of them. And then he would kill Frieza. If he thought this ended here, he was going to be in for a real treat.

"Let me think about that— _No_ ," Frieza said with that same disgustingly annoying laugh as always. "I've already told her that if she speaks, Zarbon is to kill her immediately after. She knows that there are rules to this game. And she knows better than to make an attempt at not following those specific and unbreakable rules. The question is, do you?"

Vegeta made a face, but he didn't snarl or growl at him. He didn't know what Zarbon thought was threatening. He looked like a weakling, so the prince guessed that he could take anything as a threat. He would probably have been cowering in a corner without Bulma to hide behind. What a pathetic species he must come from.

"So, Vegeta, I distinctly remember telling you—excuse me, _ordering_ you—to bow. Why haven't you done so? I hope you're not trying to, I don't know, _threaten_ me, are you?"

Zarbon's hand balled into a fist and he gently punched Bulma's stomach. But even the light blow was enough to cripple her into a bloodcurdling scream as she tried to clutch at her stomach, but the green-skinned henchman had her hands behind her back as he let her face hit the floor as she cried out in agony.

And it was all Vegeta could do but drop to his knees and bow.


	46. Love

**Chapter Forty-Five: Love**

Vegeta opened one eye, but blood dripped in and stung like a bitch, so he shut it again and gave up on trying to look at his surroundings again. What did it matter anyway? He didn't care where he was. He didn't care about anything anymore. His life was going to end. Her life was going to end. It wasn't worth caring anymore.

His wrists were shackled to the ceiling of the burgundy brick-walled prison cell. He could feel the blood crusted on his arms by the way they pulled at his hairs. Well, at least that meant the bleeding had finally stopped. And that was just from the gashes on his arms and hands.

It wasn't as if he couldn't break the metal if he wanted to, either, because it would have been an easy task, even in his current condition. He was told when he arrived in this prison that if any attempts were made to escape, on his part, Bulma would be killed instantly. But, once again, what was the point? They were both going to die anyway. Frieza had no true purpose for either of them, other than torture and his own filthy amusement. The least he could do was just kill them both already.

But he still felt the need to keep her alive as long as he could manage, even if it meant taking the brunt of the torture from the lowlifes that served under that slimy bastard. Zarbon was his least favorite. He had spent nearly half an hour with him in this cell, and he already knew where and how to hurt him the most. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that he, as the rightful heir to Planet Vegeta's throne, was Frieza's least favorite captive, so Bulma would probably be killed first, right in front of him. And then there would be no repercussions if he decided to mutilate the green pretty-boy. He might even get the chance to kill Frieza, but he highly doubted that murderer would give him the chance. He was a killer and a bastard, yes, but he was a smart bastard nonetheless.

He winced when his shoulder began throbbing again. He'd only been here for a couple of hours and already he felt like his pulse was everywhere. This was just another one-minute break before the next person came in to start beating him again. He tried to touch his feet to the ground, but only the tips of his boots could graze the stone floor. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that a pool of blood lay below him, and that his white boots were probably stained red. He could feel a broken rib near the bottom of his ribcage, and all he could do was put up with the pain or try not to think about it. He especially didn't want to think about how long this would go on. It already felt like an eternity had gone by.

A part of him was glad that blood had dripped into his eyes because now he was blind to the screen above him. It showed what a camera was viewing in a room somewhere in the palace where his mate was being held. There was always a guard at her side, sitting next to the intercom, just waiting for an order to do something to her. He could see their impatience in their lust-filled eyes. So it was better that he was partially blind now. He didn't want to see that. It was just another addition to his torture. That was the only thing a screen in a prison cell could be for. And it even came with sound, but it wasn't always on. He hated hearing her whisper his name when she thought he couldn't hear her. But he was listening, taking this humiliating punishment for her sake. All the screen really did for him was let him see that she was still breathing. But he would be ready when her heart stopped. He would be ready when his heart stopped…

The room was dimly lit and humid. Sweat gleamed on his bare skin and his breathing was rugged because of the thick air. There was also a cloud of dust and thin fog that floated to the floor of the cell. The smell was that of rusty blood and thick urine, probably because this was the primary room for torture, even when his father was alive.

Vegeta lifted his head and forced his eyes open, ignoring the stinging sensation, when he heard the lock to the door click, and the rusty hinges slide along each other with the annoying sound like nails on a chalkboard as the heavy door was pushed open by a henchman. At the thought of a chalkboard, Vegeta could only begin to think about life back on Earth. Of high school and the boring five years before he met Bulma. And then how everything in his life had changed. He knew that there was no way that he would take this humiliation for anyone before her. Even Kakarot was a stretch for this kind of punishment. But he knew that meeting such a weak Earthling female, and, yes, falling in love with her, had been the most unlikely and unpredictable thing to ever happen to him. She had messed with his head, and she had tortured him to the point of no return. But in the end, only the inevitable could happen to him. He changed, and it had been for her. It was absolutely ridiculous and absurd that the prince of the might race of Saiyans would change for any female, let alone an Earthling, one of the weakest species in the universe, but he had done it. He hadn't realized it at the moment when it occurred, but now he did.

And as Zarbon swaggered into the prison cell and laughed at how pathetic the mighty prince looked now, he looked up at the screen, since his eyes were open anyway, and watched her. The way she squirmed in discomfort as the putrid henchman held her wrists behind her back. The way her breathing was sharp and heavy, probably from the blow she had taken because of him only a little more than an hour ago.

But his thoughts were instantly ripped back into the moment as Zarbon brought his ugly face inches from Vegeta's and laughed, purposefully spitting on him as he did so, ripping off his white boots and tossing them aside in a puddle forming in the corner from a leak in the stone. And then a rough hand grabbed him by the waist and two of his stubby green fingers poked underneath the top of his dark blue spandex training pants. Vegeta tightened in disgust, and in the next second, they were pulled down and off his body, leaving him entirely naked, dangling helplessly from the chains attaching his wrists to the stone ceiling.

"I'm going to kill you," he hissed, but Zarbon just raised a finely tweaked eyebrow and smirked. He reached behind him and pressed a button on the wall. Instantly, Vegeta regretted his actions, but it was too late to start begging as the screen above him revealed the henchman with his mate receiving the sent message and pulling back Bulma's head by gripping the shorter hairs at the back of her neck, revealing her throat to him.

"Shouldn't have said that, little prince," Zarbon snickered, watching the screen as well. Vegeta wanted to tear his eyes from the screen, but he just couldn't. The man with her swiped his tongue roughly against his vulnerable mate's neck and Vegeta heard her yelp when he sharply bit down, drawing blood. He realized with a start that the sound must have been turned on again. And it hadn't just been a yelp. Instead, it was more of a cry of innocence. She knew she was being tortured, but she didn't know why, or what was the cause of it. What made him feel even worse was that she probably thought it had something to do with her, and that maybe she had moved the wrong way or breathed too hard. He could do nothing but silently apologize, holding the knowledge that her pain was because of him.

The man with her let go of her hair and simply forced his mouth on hers, letting go of her wrists behind her back so that he could force pressure on the back of her head to put on a show that she was forced to kiss him in return as she whimpered. But at this, Vegeta closed his eyes and squeezed them shut so hard that it gave him a pounding headache right away. He could still hear her, but he couldn't watch.

In the middle of one of her cries, the sound was cut off, and before Vegeta could open his eyes, a fist collided with his stomach. He would have doubled over, but he was in no position to be moving anywhere.

"How does it feel?" Zarbon asked, "You are hanging naked before me, Vegeta. I would have never imagined such a thing. You are like a dog that has been misbehaving, and is finally receiving its judgment. But this is how you belong, I'm afraid. You don't deserve to wear clothing, as if you were a civilized man, or someone with an ounce of dignity. I have stripped you of your pride, your notoriously infamous ego, and now you hang here, ready for your punishment and willing to take it, nevertheless. And for what? That creature, on the screen? Don't you see how pathetic that makes you? Did you see what just happened? How easily she was taken control over? And by one of our weakest slaves. He isn't even worthy enough to wash our floors, and he has so easily violated that beautiful blue-haired creature."

Zarbon paused and thought for a moment. "I understand how you could be attracted to her, but really, Vegeta, you are a Saiyan, and one of the most elite warriors of your species. If you ever mated with such a creature, you would snap her in half. And even if you managed not to mutilate her as you fucked her, you probably wouldn't enjoy yourself at all. I couldn't imagine holding back that much power just to keep her alive. And look at this: here you are, holding back that power again to keep her alive. Although you're not screwing her, the concept is quite the same. While mating, you two would just be like fish, flopping on the beach out of water. And here, you are dangling from shackles on the ceiling, with the ability to snap them if you so desired and probably end my life. Don't think of me as an idiot, because I know you have the power to kill me if you could do it without being the indirect cause of the blue-haired creature's slow and painful death. But you hold back your power here, as well, just to keep her alive. How sad. I actually find myself feeling sympathy for you. You're so innocent and naïve to the world around you. You're such a young prince, even being the Saiyan that you are. It's a pity that you'll eventually have to die."

Vegeta had to hold back his white rage. Of course it was true, the fact that he could snap the shackles and kill the green bastard in a matter of seconds. But that would only serve to worsen the situation he and Bulma were in, no matter what his personal gain at that moment would be and how sweet it would feel to wring his pretty little neck in his crushing hands. He could mentally hear the noise he would make as Vegeta crushed his windpipe and Zarbon gasped his final breaths.

"I can just imagine you two actually mating with one another," Zarbon laughed, and Vegeta just wanted him to shut up already. But he moved over to the button on the wall and hit the switch below it. Suddenly, the speakers came on with a sharp ringing noise that hurt Vegeta's sensitive ears. "Now that she can hear us, why don't you explain yourself? How do you hold back, really? I want to know so that I can try to keep alive the next insolent bitch I fuck. I can only assume that it's difficult for you to not clench your fists so hard that you snap her bones when she rides you like the animal that I can only assume you are." He rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Vegeta?" Her weak voice struck him like a thousand blows. "Is that you? Are you there? Can you hear m—" She let out a scream as the man holding her wrists once more cracked his backhand across the side of her face. Vegeta clenched his teeth when her blood actually splattered against the lens of the camera in the other room, showing it on the screen as well.

"Good, you can hear us," Zarbon said with a smirk, "I was just asking Vegeta how you two are in bed with each other. You do know that it isn't very fun for him when he has to hold back his power every time he fucks you. That means that as your squirming beneath him, he's actually planning out his schedule for the next day because he's so bored with you. He can't even feel anything because you're so weak, so pretending to fake a climax probably gets boring for him, as well." He turned back to the Saiyan prince with an evil grin. "Now, I want you to answer me honestly. How do you put up with her in bed under those circumstances? I want to know, and I bet she does as well—"

"Don't let him get to you, Vegeta!" Bulma screamed, and his head snapped up, his wide eyes focusing on the screen. She apparently didn't know where the camera was in the room, so she shouted at the walls as he watched her. "I don't care what he says! I don't care what happens to me! I just want you to know that I love you! I always have, since the first moment I saw you, and I always will! Please, please know that, Vegeta. Whatever happens, just remember that, okay?" Her voice had gone from loud to weak in only a few sentences, and he could hear her holding back tears.

But Zarbon was back at the button on the wall. "Will someone please shut that fucking whore up?!," he barked his orders into a small speaker. "Kalous, where are you?!"

It was then that Vegeta noticed that the henchman was no longer in the picture on the screen. And now, neither was Bulma. Vegeta just lowered his head so that Zarbon wouldn't see the small smile that crept onto his cracked and bloody lips.

Kakarot.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Vegeta couldn't help but laugh as Zarbon fled from the room, screaming at people to get in contact with Frieza immediately and give him an urgent notice of the situation. He didn't blame them when they just stood their ground, not wanting to be the one to deliver the sure-to-be fatal message to their master and lord of stupidity and unpreparedness. He laughed again, seeing as no one was in the room anymore to torture him. How easily Kakarot could turn the entire place into a jungle of crazy henchmen, not sure whether they would live to see another day or not, depending on how their next couple of hours came to pass.

The rusty hinges of the large door to his prison cell squeaked and he looked up to find none other than his partner in crime standing there with an eyebrow raised. "I hope you weren't showing off to Zarbon," he said, noticing his clothes tossed all over the bloody and puddle-filled floor, as well as the obvious fact that he wasn't wearing anything.

"What took you so long?" he asked, snapping the shackles with a quick motion. He had planned to land on his feet elegantly, but his torture had taken a bit more out of him than he thought it did, and his weight caused his knees to buckle and he fell, face-first, into a puddle of water, just managing to catch himself with his hands so that he wouldn't give himself a bloody nose, too.

A sharp yelp as he hit the cold stone floor made him instantly look up at who he knew was standing there. He could sense her energy level, and it made him a lot happier than he thought it should have.

"I brought you a present," Goku said. "And it took me so long to get here because I had to find a place for Chichi to hide where she wouldn't be found while we took care of business over here."

"Vegeta," Bulma breathed, dashing over to him and dropping to her knees next to him and placing her hand on his back, and the other reached for his pants, which weren't lying too far away. She noticed the scratches on his back and chest and wearily assumed that his shirt must look like tissue paper strips, wherever it was. She couldn't see it on the floor, and she guessed that he would just have to find a new one later.

"I took care of her bodyguard, so all we've got to do is finish off Frieza…" He paused as Vegeta coughed up blood. "Is that going to be a problem…?"

"This is all my fault," Bulma said, holding her head in her hands, but she felt Vegeta push himself up so he was sitting on his butt in a puddle of blood mixed with water. He was breathing hard as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. Bulma managed to ignore the blood on him.

"Maybe you should put some pants on before you do that," Goku said with a light attitude. "And staying here is probably a bad idea, seeing as the guards are going to come back here first and that would mean that I would be defending two _Earthlings_ instead of having a partner, as I thought it would before I got here."

Vegeta snorted his amusement and Bulma narrowed her eyes. "Did you just use my race as an insult?" she asked, annoyed, but not enough to actually care more than a little. She yelped when Vegeta got up on his knees and lifted her chin, inspecting where she had been bitten on her neck.

"I wish you would have brought him here so I could have killed the bastard myself," he growled, but his breathing was heavy and Bulma could tell that he was weak and talking with his ego, as usual.

"Don't worry," Goku said with a smile, "I'm leaving Frieza to you. I thought it sounded like an even trade, and the guy was right there anyway, so I just saw my chance, and I got rid of him for you."

"Not appreciated."

"I know, I know," he said, finishing their short conversation with a wave of his hand. But Bulma jumped when Goku walked over to the two of them and knelt down next to Vegeta. "Don't make me carry you, because you know I'll do it," he said with a light smile. Vegeta just sneered with a harsh frown and grabbed his pants when Bulma handed them to him. He slid them on with a little more force than was necessary, and allowed her to help him stand. "I can help, too, you know," Goku said, watching Bulma struggle a bit with his weight as he put his boots back on.

"Shut up, Kakarot."

Goku rolled his eyes and held the door open for the two of them as they made their way out of the prison and into a brightly lit hallway.

"Are you going to be able to fight like that?" Goku asked, but all he got was an unconvincing nod and a growl as Bulma let him stand on his own. His shoulders burned from hanging and he scratched his arms to get the crusted blood to stop ripping out the hairs on his forearm. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked around, not used to the lighting being so bright. He looked down to find that his boots had definitely been stained by his blood. There was almost no white left on them. He wondered how he could have lost so much blood and still be standing as he was.

But just like a curse, he felt the hallway spin around him, and a darkness came closer, as if shrouding him in an eternal night in a world without a sun.

"Vegeta?" a distant voice said, calling to him, and he knew it was her. Who else's voice could sound like that? "Goku, he's falling! Catch him!" And then he was floating on clouds.


	47. Hate

**Chapter Forty-Six: Hate**

"Ugh," Vegeta groaned, opening his eyes slowly so he wouldn't throw up. His nausea was out of control and he felt as if he would vomit at any moment. He looked around when he felt it was safe to use his sight in the bright light of the hallway. Goku was kneeling on the floor, holding him upright as Bulma cradled his head in her hand and held the back of his neck with her other hand. "How long was I out?" he asked, feeling like he had just woken up at noon from a long night's rest.

"Umm," Bulma began, blinking a few times at him in what looked to be confusion.

"Well?" Vegeta pressed angrily, not liking her immediate hesitation. He looked up at Goku, who just smiled at him. "What's so funny?" he growled cautiously.

"You just passed out," Goku said, "And then woke up and asked how long you were out," Goku said, chuckling. "So, the answer would be about five seconds or less."

Vegeta rolled his eyes as if he should have just said so from the beginning. He pushed off the ground so Goku would stop holding him in a sitting position, but he didn't let go of him for a second, which was helpful but humiliating. Luckily, no one was around to see them in the middle of the random hallway in the palace that once belonged to his father.

"Are we going to kill Frieza or what?" he asked, pressing his palm against the wall and lifting his body up so that he wouldn't look as if he was in no condition to be fighting anyone. The last thing he wanted was for Goku to think that the honor of killing Frieza no longer went to the prince of Planet Vegeta, who should currently be the king, and nothing less.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, but paused before continuing, "Maybe we should go and come back later… You need to rest. You should go try and fight someone right now. I mean… look at you. You're covered in blood and you're cut all over the place. Not to mention the gashes on your back. You should get those wounds cleaned before you do anything else."

"Don't patronize me, woman!" he shouted, but slid a few inches down the wall, his forearm being the only thing that held him up. And a wound on his arm left a trail of blood against the white wall where he stood leaning heavily against.

Goku opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again, as if not sure what to say. "Maybe Bulma's right, Vegeta… It's your call, but _I_ wouldn't have a problem beating you up in your current state. And I wouldn't even have fun while doing it… You look like a drowned cat, and I know how you hate insults, but there are a few more coming to you if you don't say something."

"We are going to kill Frieza, right now, Kakarot!" he shouted again, this time holding himself up, but closing one eye as he winced. "I could kill him if I was dying on the floor!" And then he went Super Saiyan, lighting up the hallway, and making it brighter than it had been before. His teal eyes reflected Bulma's image back at her and his golden hair flared up, spiking his prior ebony locks more so than usual. His cuts and bruises stood out more in the light of the energy that he emanated, but he looked like he could have stood at the front of a line in the middle of a battlefield and still come out on top. Bulma envied his pride, but she wasn't sure if it had a better chance of benefiting him or getting him wounded… or worse.

"That's it then," Goku said, flaring up in golden energy as well. "I know there's no changing your mind when you've decided like this." His usual black spikes stood upright like Vegeta's and his eyes, too, became a light shade of teal, reflecting the light in the hall like a magnifying glass. His energy radiated around him in waves of heat, as if from the floor, and it looked as if a gust of wind came from a fan at his feet. Bulma wondered what it would be like to have so much energy at your disposal that it would whip around you like a tornado, lifting your hair and your clothes. It also gave her the feeling that Goku and Vegeta were the eyes of their own storms, calm and peaceful while a vortex of energy violently twisted and turned around them. It was mesmerizing, and she had a hard time looking away. It was simply amazing. How could Frieza combat against someone that looked as deadly as they probably were?

"But first…" Vegeta said, glancing at Bulma, who looked up at him in surprise, "Where to put you…?" He eyed her in a way that he usually only did in private, but she guessed that Goku wasn't someone he felt like being appropriate around, considering their lifelong partnership. "It would be safer to find a place where no one would look, but this entire place could be crawling with guards in a matter of a couple minutes, and I don't know of any places that the guards wouldn't normally check, especially if Frieza found out that you were hidden somewhere, and informed them that you were separated from us."

"Then isn't the best place for her with us?" Goku asked.

"Of course it is," Vegeta replied casually, and it seemed as if becoming a Super Saiyan had either made the pain go away, or his wounds were beginning to heal already because of his blood and energy. "But it would be foolish to bring her into the middle of our battlefield." He paused for a moment to think. "So, seeing as I'm the one who will be killing that murdering bastard, Kakarot, you will stay behind and make sure she stays safe."

"What?!," Goku shouted, making Bulma jump. He rarely raised his voice. "Are you insane? I know we told you already, but you need to look at yourself. No one knows how high Frieza's power level actually goes. You could be in for a deadly surprise, and there's no way that I'm going to let you go into a fight like this by yourself."

"I have an idea," Bulma said, raising her hand, and then putting it down, embarrassed by the look Vegeta gave her as she did so. She felt like a school kid, raising her hand to ask a question or give an answer to a math problem. "If Goku wants to be there for you, can't we all be in the same room, instead of the two of us staying behind? I mean, he can still protect me and stay out of the fight unless something goes wrong. But if something does go wrong, then Goku can start fighting and you can come keep me safe until you think you're ready. Doesn't that make sense?"

She was patronizing him a bit, seeing as if Goku actually needed to intervene, Vegeta probably wouldn't be in any shape to heal in time to start fighting the same battle. She reprimanded herself for it, but this was a smart plan, in her opinion. What she wanted was for Goku to be there to protect Vegeta. She also wanted to be near the two of them so that she could help out in whatever way she could, even if she was only an Earthling. It didn't matter to her. Goku was strong enough to help them both, if need be, she thought. Splitting up, as Vegeta suggested, could get him killed, as well as her. This way, they all had a better chance of surviving, and Vegeta could get his revenge on Frieza, too.

"That sounds like the best option we've got so far," Goku said, nodding his agreement with her plan. Vegeta didn't say anything, but thankfully, he nodded as well, however slightly.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Vegeta asked stubbornly, crossing his arms, his energy aura changing as he moved. He tossed his hair and the energy whipped around the top of his head, spitting off like a flame licking the air above it. "Kakarot, stay a few paces behind me so Frieza will at least know who he's going to fight."

Goku just rolled his eyes and waved his hand with a flourish, sarcastically motioning for Vegeta to go first down the hall. "After you, my liege."

"Shut up, Kakarot." Vegeta said, passing him on the right and uncrossing his arms as he walked. Goku chuckled and waved his hand again to politely let Bulma go before him. She laughed a little so Vegeta wouldn't hear her, although she wasn't sure how a Saiyan's hearing worked, and followed after the arrogant prince at a good distance away.

After about a minute or so of walking, Goku came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back a bit so she wouldn't go any farther.

"What is it?" she asked, looking on ahead. She had lost sight of Vegeta a moment ago. "Why are we stopping, Goku?"

"Frieza's up ahead, and Vegeta is probably entering his room right now."

"So why are we stopped here? Aren't we supposed to be in there so you can help him if his injuries are too severe? What if he's killed? I _would_ say injured, but he's obviously already injured, and everyone in that room will be able to tell as soon as he walks in and they can see him. He's got blood all over himself. They're going to try to take advantage of him, Goku. You have to be in there, so let's go already." Bulma tried to push past Goku, but she knew that she wasn't going anywhere if Goku didn't want to allow it.

"Bulma, one thing you have to learn is to trust Vegeta."

"What are you talking about? Don't you think I've learned that by now? I followed him to his home planet and I even trusted him when I knew there was a possibility that he wanted to kill me. So don't start giving me some crap about how Vegeta needs to do this on his own!" she shouted, raising her voice. She hated doing it to Goku, but she couldn't help it. "The first time trusted him was at Chichi's and your party, remember? If I didn't trust him and his actions when he was with Maron to protect his past from me, then I wouldn't be here. There would be no Vegeta and me. We would have never spoken to each other again. Or, _I_ would have never spoken to _him_ again, at least. And not to mention the fact that I went against my parents for him! My mom and dad mean the world to me, and I never dreamed of treating them like I did. They're probably worried sick about me. They probably have the police searching the entire town and even further by now. If I didn't trust Vegeta, I would have never done that to my parents for him. And, _yes_ , it was for him. And I trust him now, to do what he has to do and then help me make things better so we can go home… Or I can go home…"

Bulma slowed down, remembering that Vegeta said he wasn't coming back to Earth with her once this was all over. It seemed a little ironic, seeing as her trust speech had just come to an obvious close. She felt a little betrayed, but she knew she was just being selfish. She wanted Vegeta to be with her on Earth when he belonged here, on his planet. It wasn't fair, but she knew he had his reasons.

"Can we just go in there?" she asked, looking directly into his teal eyes. "Goku, _please_. I've trusted him long enough. It's time for him to trust _me_ now."

Goku lowered his eyes, and then his head. And he slowly backed down, taking his hand off of her shoulder and then slowly lifting his head to look in the direction they were headed to begin with. "The fight hasn't started yet," he said, "But it will."

"And we'll both be there when it does," Bulma said forcibly, taking a step forward. When she wasn't stopped, she walked further down the hallway. And when she approached a giant pair of double doors, she didn't have to pause to ask Goku where Frieza's main chambers were, or which doors she had to open to get there. She just walked until her face was inches away from the door. Goku stepped up behind her and she took in a deep breath. She knew very well that she could be walking into her death. She could never see her parents again. Her short life could come to an abrupt stop right before her eyes in any moment that she spent in this room.

But she exhaled and took another breath and realized that she could have been killed multiple times on this planet. But Vegeta was there when Brolly was about to take advantage of her and possibly murder her when he was satisfied. And Goku was there for her when the guard, not too long ago, was given the order over the com-system, to beat her until she was bloody so Vegeta could watch his punishment. These two people, one standing next to her, and one inside that room, were always there for her. They had always been. Ever since the first day she met them. It was strange, and she wasn't sure if it was a fantasy, but she knew that today wasn't her day to die. She was surrounded by her friends and she knew they would give up their lives for her sake. They loved her, and she loved them.

Without a second thought, Bulma placed her hands to the large double doors, and gave a heavy push. They slid just a little, and Bulma smiled up at Goku when he placed a hand on the right door, pushing it all the way open for her.

"Speaking of idiots," a slimy voice echoed around the room, and was the first sound Bulma heard as soon as the door was opened. She knew it was Frieza.

Bulma glanced around. There were three guards on the left, and two on the right. A green-skinned man was standing to the right of the throne, where Frieza sat, his head slumped into his hand, and his elbow resting on the arm of the velvet chair. A thin red carpet rolled out and she took one step to stand on it. Of course, Goku was a step ahead of her on her left, one foot on the carpet, and one on the hard, tiled floor.

Vegeta had been the first thing Bulma looked at in the large room, but she had looked away. Now, her eyes savored the sight of him, taking him in. The high ceiling and glass top of the room seemed to shine down a spotlight on her dream boy. He looked as if he was sparkling in the light on his energy, swirling around him, mixed with the light from above him. He was facing away from her, his eyes glued on Frieza, but she didn't doubt that he knew exactly where she was.

"How are you, Kakarot, son of Bardock?" Frieza asked Goku, not taking his eyes away from Vegeta, giving the question a rhetorical hum. Bulma's thoughts directed to the man who had come to tell them of Vegeta's father's death, and the entire reason they were here, at this very moment.

"I've been better," Goku replied calmly. Bulma admired how there was no hatred in his voice when he spoke. He answered Frieza's question honestly and without a threat or even a twinge of any negative emotions. She knew he didn't like Frieza at all, but if someone else had been listening, they might have even guessed that Goku and Frieza were old acquaintances. It was something she knew she would never hear come out of Vegeta's mouth. Maybe it was one of the reasons Chichi fell in love with him, Bulma thought.

"And where is the other female that was with you? I know there were two Earthling females, and I can only presume that she would be your mate, Kakarot. What I want to know is where she is."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Goku said calmly, and even politely. But Bulma had felt him tense next to her, and she knew he didn't appreciate Frieza bringing up the subject of Chichi and her whereabouts.

"Of course you don't," Frieza said slyly. He raised a pale hand and pointed to one of the guards closest to Bulma. She tensed as well, and she knew that Goku must have felt it. "You, over there. I want you to go get as many guards as you can find and track down the second Earthling female. I want her brought here _alive_ , do you understand me?"

"Yes, My Lord," the guard said, bowing quickly and then making his way to the open door. And Bulma was shocked for a moment, actually believing that Goku and Vegeta were just going to let the man leave and start a hunt for Chichi. But her thoughts were put on hold when Goku lifted a hand and pointed his palm at the guard.

"If you take one more step, I'll blast you to oblivion," Goku warned, and this time, there was no mistaking the threat in his command. And the guard froze, becoming as still as a statue, in a mid-walk position.

"What do you think you're doing?" Frieza shouted. "Are you defying my orders, henchman?"

And at that, the man began moving again, and Goku let fly a large burst of yellow light, the same color of the aura that surrounded him and made him glow. The blast swept the man right off his feet, and he was thrown out of the room, where Bulma couldn't see if he was all right. But she assumed that he would be unable to move for a while when Goku lowered his arm and placed his hand back at his side, turning to face Frieza once more. Vegeta hadn't even moved a muscle. She silently wondered if the henchman was dead from that one attack. Did Frieza truly believe that he stood a chance against two Super Saiyans?

"I have to do everything myself around here," Frieza loudly mumbled to himself, lifting a finger and hitting a button next to the large velvet chair he sat in. A buzzing noise came, and a voice followed.

"Yes, sire? Is there something I can do for you?" a man asked through the com-system.

"Yes, I would like you to gather your men and track down—"

Another blast was fired, but this time it was Vegeta who had released the ball of energy from his hand. And Vegeta's attack was blue, while Goku's had been yellow.

"I dislike being ignored," Vegeta shouted arrogantly. "Maybe you should stop wasting your time trying to give out commands, and start begging for mercy. Don't you know that you don't stand a chance against me? And even if you manage to escape, you won't get far." He motioned to Goku, whose expression had turned solid in his mental preparation of the inevitable fight.

"But you've done something so foolish," Frieza said mockingly, laughing a little as his gaze finally left Vegeta. And Bulma jumped when his red eyes landed on her. She found it difficult not to look away, and her line of sight was wavering between Frieza and the floor. "You've brought me my prize. Not to say that I won't kill her during this battle, or that I guarantee her safety from my henchmen, but if she's still alive by the time this is done and over with, I think I'm going to have fun with her."

Bulma took an involuntary step backwards, which made Goku turn around. Her heartbeat sped up, remembering the torture of having to deal with Frieza's men. She could only imagine how much worse Frieza would treat her. She couldn't find a breath, and she glanced quickly at Vegeta's back, knowing that the red eyes were still on her skin. She felt as if he was tearing off her clothes with his eyes, and she could do nothing but watch Vegeta's back as he was turned away from her.

And then he whipped his head around to glare at her. "Woman, you're becoming quite the distraction! Kakarot, will you get her under control before I have to—"

Bulma screeched as Vegeta was knocked to the ground by the green-skinned man that had been on Frieza's right.

"Zarbon, you filthy piece of garbage, get off me!" He flipped himself over and landed a kick with both feet square in Zarbon's chest. He coughed up saliva, and Vegeta dodged it by quickly snapping his head over to one side. "Disgusting. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" He flipped over again, this time taking Zarbon with him and rolling until he was on top of him. Zarbon tightened his fists and blocked access to his face with his flexed forearms as Vegeta threw a punch at his face. He chuckled when Zarbon wrapped his legs around the Saiyan Prince's waist and held himself in the fetal position. Vegeta threw another few punches at his forearms, attempting to gain access to his face, but Zarbon remained tightly curled up in his defensive position on the tiled floor of the main chambers.

Bulma watched as Vegeta seemed to be playing with his prey, but she was snapped out of her sidelining as Goku was thrown backwards, leaving her exposed to the henchmen before her. Thankfully though, none of them seemed eager to join the fight or do anything without being given an order from Frieza himself.

Bulma turned to find that Frieza was the reason Goku had been thrown backwards. He stood above him, but not for long. Goku jumped to his feet and locked eyes with the pale-ish, purple creature.

"You'll be sorry you ever threatened her," he said under his breath, and the hatred in his voice was eminent. Now, there was no mistaking how much he hated Frieza. His voice gave away everything.

And then he threw a punch at Frieza's stomach, but it was dodged with ease. Bulma hoped that didn't mean that Frieza could outfight Goku. If his speed was greater, then there was no telling what else was. But her thoughts were cut off when Goku just let out a quick chuckle and a smirk. He kicked Frieza's feet out from under him, but Frieza's hands hit the floor and he used them to quickly stand and whip his tail around to hit Goku in the side of the ribs, causing him to fly a couple of feet before hitting the ground.

"Guards!" Frieza shouted, whipping back around, "Kill the girl!" And then he was racing back towards Goku to keep him occupied, but Bulma was no longer watching Frieza and Goku's fight. She was watching the four remaining henchmen's eyes quickly run up and down her form. She guessed that Frieza decided that she was no longer a worthwhile prize for him. All four men charged in at the same time, and Bulma's natural reaction drove her to the carpet-covered floor, her hands over her head, her knees pressing against her chest, her eyes clamped shut, and a loud scream forced from between her lips, hurting her lungs.

But before she felt any pain, her scream had ceased and she quickly opened her eyes and jumped up to stand, preparing to run away. But she saw three henchmen, dead on the floor at her feet. The fourth was held by the throat, his feet dangling as Vegeta tossed him aside, dead like the others. Bulma wanted nothing more than to close the four or five feet between them and embrace him in a long and comforting hug, but she knew that he would just push her away. And now certainly wasn't the time for that kind of weak and helpless behavior. And, Vegeta most of all, wouldn't appreciate that from her.

Instead, she moved her eyes to look at what had happened to Vegeta's opponent before his fight had been interrupted by her necessary, and probably unsolicited, safety. She mentally apologized to both of them, seeing as it probably did nothing to help Goku's fight either.

Zarbon was off to the other side of the room. And he seemed to be cowering in a corner, Bulma noticed. He probably realized that Frieza was the only person in the room who stood a fraction of a chance against the power of a Super Saiyan like Goku or Vegeta. She wondered if his life was flashing before his eyes at that moment. Maybe he was seeing all the people he had killed, trying to imagine how they all felt, seeing as his death looked awfully close as Vegeta began walking towards him.

"No!" Zarbon shouted, "Stay away from me, you bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Whatever puts you to sleep at night, Zarbon," Vegeta chuckled. "But you must know that I don't appreciate all the scars that these are going to give me," he said, pointing to one gash on his left side and a slash across his right bicep. "Not that I actually mind scars all that much, but I still don't appreciate it."

Bulma watched as Vegeta lifted his hand slowly, probably savoring the look of terror and panic in Zarbon's eyes, but she forced herself to look away as the light slowly grew in size and in brightness. And no less than a couple of seconds later, she jumped at the sound of the green-skinned man's long and high-pitched shriek. She quickly clamped her hands over her ears, and when it barely dulled the horrifying sound, she dropped to her knees and pressed harder on her ears.

And when the sound had finally terminated, she dared to open her eyes and listen to her own heart, beating fast and as hard as a drum. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped into her right eye, making it sting. She quickly closed it and tried to wipe the pain away.

Another shout caused her to ignore the pain and open her stinging eye anyway. It was the cry of someone in a tremendous amount of pain. It had been Goku's shout that had brought her to her senses.


	48. Magic

Well guys...

This is it! Thank you for bringing me all the way to the end of this story! I couldn't have completed it without all of the support that I received from my lovely fans. :) So, once more, for the last time, thank you from the bottom of my heart. And I hope you enjoy the conclusion to "Love, Hate and Magic," a Bulma and Vegeta story.

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 **Chapter Forty-Seven: Magic**

Bulma's head turned so fast that the skin on her neck felt as if it were about to tear open. She quickly spun her body on the floor so that the pain would go away, and nervously flicked her eyes back and forth between Frieza, Vegeta and Goku. The first thing her eyes were drawn to was Vegeta, and the unexpected look of surprise on his face. She then followed his gaze over to Frieza, who was standing with his hand on his hips and a devilish smile plastered on his face. Bulma followed Frieza's red-eyed glare to the floor, where Goku was sprawled out on the floor.

"Goku!" Bulma screamed, but Frieza's nasty glare shot to her, and before she could draw a single breath, Vegeta raced to stand between her and his hateful gaze. "Vegeta, what happened?!" she cried, unable to stop herself when she grabbed at his arm and tried to turn him to face her. Of course, it had no effect, but she felt, in that moment when they touched, the heat of his power. It made the hairs on her arms curl up, and she felt hotter than she had ever felt. The sun seemed weak in comparison.

Vegeta yanked his arm away from her and Bulma's eyes widened. "What are you doing? You have to help him!" she yelled, pounding her small fist against his back. But he didn't respond to her.

"Kakarot!" he shouted, "Get up, Kakarot!" He sounded commanding and forceful, but Bulma knew he had to be worried, even if he didn't want to reveal it in his voice while Frieza was listening. "Kakarot, you fool, this isn't a game! Stand up!"

But Goku stayed on the floor. He didn't even lift a hand to tell them that he was all right.

"What did you do to him?!" Bulma screamed, deafening her own ears. She took a step forward, but Vegeta held out his arm and pushed her back with more force than was necessary. She stumbled, but didn't fall.

"I have a proposition to make, young prince," Frieza said with a sly grin. He took one step so that he was standing above Goku, and then he lifted his foot and placed it on his head. Bulma noticed that Goku moved ever so slightly. "You hand over the Earthling female to me, and I will allow you and your friend here, to leave without a single fight."

Bulma froze. Could Vegeta actually consider such a thing? No, she knew he would never, but then they didn't have a plan to help Goku, and Bulma didn't even know what had happened to him. She hadn't been watching their fight after Frieza ordered his men to kill her. The last thing she remembered seeing was Frieza matching Goku's speed, and then he hit him in the side with his tail. Maybe he had a broken rib. Maybe that was why he had screamed.

But then what chance did Vegeta stand against Frieza? If that slimy murderer managed to take down Goku in that short amount of time, and he was said to be stronger than Vegeta, then what chance did her dream boy stand. Sure, he was a Super Saiyan and the prince of the planet, but he was injured. She could see his gashes clearly now that she was so close to his. His back looked as if he had taken a punishment of several lashes from a thick whip. And the knife wounds were unmistakable on his arms. Thankfully he was no longer bleeding, but it didn't make her feel any less comfortable about him fighting in his injured state.

"You can go to hell," Vegeta spat, but Bulma grabbed Vegeta's arm and maneuvered herself around it. Then, with nothing more than a foolish hope, she tried to dart past him, towards Frieza. But, as if she hadn't expected anything less, Vegeta grabbed her from around the waist and lifted her up and brought her back down in front of him, her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, and it was speeding up and pulsating rapidly.

"Let me go!" Bulma yelled, "Vegeta, let go of me!"

"Not if you don't tell me what you're planning on doing once you're free. And even then, I can't guarantee anything," he said, and she silently thanked him for trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn't working very well for either of them.

"Oh, how _adorable_!" Frieza said with a smile, clasping his hands together in front of his face, "The lovebirds are _fighting_. It's a battle _and_ a show. How about we make things more interesting, then? You, Bulma, was it? Let's say that instead of Vegeta handing you over to me, you have to come to me willingly. If you do that, then not only will I let your friends go, but I will provide Vegeta with the necessary medical supplies to heal this weakling." He pointed a sharp-nailed finger down at Goku. "How does that sound? I know I don't have much to offer them, but their lives for yours seems fair enough, doesn't it?"

Bulma looked up at Vegeta, but he just narrowed his eyes. "You're chances for me letting go of you just went from one percent to nothing."

"You can come back for me," she pressed under her breath, but Frieza's hearing seemed as excellent as the Saiyans, because he let out a disgustingly high-pitched laugh.

"And what makes you think you'll still be alive by the time they figure out their plan to do such a thing? First of all, Kakarot here is injured. It will take him two days at the least to heal back to perfect health, and I'm stronger than both of your little golden friends combined. Then they would have to locate you, and fight my men and possibly me to get to you. That's too many chances for them to fail, so I doubt you would be free anytime soon after you've given yourself over to me, body and all." He laughed again, but he was cut short by Vegeta.

"You're wrong," he said simply.

"There were a lot of things I said just now, and although I'm not wrong about anything concerning this matter, please enlighten me as to what you are referring to, little prince."

"Vegeta, just let me go," Bulma pleaded, trying in vain to pry his arms off of her. Both of his arms encircled her around the waist, and she could barely move to begin with. "If you don't, we'll all die. Can't you see that? If we refuse, he'll kill Goku, and then he'll kill you, and I'll be here alone anyway. Why would you want that? Why would you want me to have to watch you die? At least this way I'll know that you're okay. And Goku. Chichi would kill me if I let anything happen to him."

"Stop squirming, will you?" was his only reply, and Bulma groaned in annoyance. She let out a heavy breath, and then pulled on his arms again, but she couldn't even budge them a quarter of a centimeter. She quickly sucked in her stomach and twisted, so that he was holding her on her side. She had to break free, otherwise Goku would be killed.

"Oww!" she screamed, doing her best to fake being in a serious amount of pain. "Vegeta, you're hurting me!" she squirmed and lifted her left leg, pushing her foot against his thigh. She pressed her palms against his chest and tried to push away from him, but as soon as Vegeta loosened his grip, he held her again, this time flattening her chest against his and pressing her face against his collarbone. She felt her feet being lifted off the ground as he bent his back a bit. She felt almost as if he was giving her a hug, but she knew better.

"Will you give it a rest already?!" he shouted, right next to her ear.

"Now, now, little prince," Frieza said, a tisked edge to his tone. "If she wants to save you, why don't you let her? I mean, if you're going to die anyway, why not let her save you. You could easily save yourself if you weren't so hostile and self-centered."

" _Me_?" Vegeta asked sarcastically, positioning himself so that he had a better grip on Bulma. "You're kidding, right?"

Bulma decided not to talk, but instead tilt her head so that she could look into his eyes. She knew hers were pleading, and she figured that saying anything to him would just make things worse. But Vegeta's eyes were full of something else. It was almost a tinge of enjoyment. Was he enjoying this? Was there something she wasn't getting? Was there something he wasn't telling her?

And then a shout from across the room made her dart her gaze to Frieza. His disgusting shout was unmistakable, and what came as a surprise was that he was lying on his back, a good three or four yards away from where he had been previously standing, making threats and shouting orders at her and Vegeta.

"I guess I don't get to enlighten him after all," Vegeta muttered, half to himself and half to everyone else in the room. Bulma heard another familiar shriek before her eyes found Goku, dropping to his knees on the floor. He was clutching his left side with his right hand, and his left hand was keeping him from falling over and smashing his face against the floor. And Bulma finally saw the reason he had been on the floor. A sharp, white bone jutted out of his side, splitting the skin. A small flow of blood was coming out of the wound, but she assumed that the bone was clogging some of the blood flow. She watched his protruding rib move up and down as he heavily breathed, and she could only guess that Goku had head-butted Frieza. He didn't look like he was in any position to attack him any other way.

"What happened?" Bulma shouted as Vegeta's hold on her loosened again, enough that she was placed back down on the ground and she could take a step forward. His hand was still on her shoulder and his other hand was in the crook of her elbow, holding her back and in a position where he could move her if necessary. But she didn't see the point. Goku was no longer being threatened, but how could two injured Super Saiyans hope to defeat a monster like Frieza when he was at full power? She still didn't see any better option than giving herself up, but she knew that wouldn't be possible with Vegeta holding her back.

Goku didn't answer Bulma's question, but Vegeta pulled her alongside of him as they made their way over to his side.

"It looks like the bastard forced the bone to poke through after it had been broken," Vegeta said, clarifying some of what had happened. "Painful, Kakarot?" he asked.

"Yeah, why don't _you_ try tackling a moving target with a bone sticking out of your side," he said with a forced laugh. And then his expression became serious. "How are we going to get him, Vegeta?"

"I think you just got careless," Vegeta said, "I think he got a lucky shot on you, and he's overconfident because of it. That's our advantage."

"And if you're wrong, and he is more powerful than me?"

"Then we're all going to die, Kakarot. What else is there?"

"Wait, what?" Bulma said, panic evident in her voice. But the two of them just looked at her and smirked. She guessed that they might actually be enjoying themselves. Saiyans, as Vegeta had said to her a while ago, back on Earth, were a warrior species, and lived for fights like these. But she wasn't sure whether or not to be happy about their optimism, or deathly afraid for her own sake.

"You should be careful, Vegeta," Goku said, pointing to Bulma, who looked down at herself as a natural reaction. "Holding her that tight already could give her bruises. She still has the serum in her bloodstream, so I'd be extra careful."

"I know," he said, rolling his eyes, as if even a child would know such a thing. Bulma couldn't help but smirk, but it was short-lived as Frieza's grunt broke the silence between the three of them. "I can't believe you decided to get up," Vegeta commented mockingly. "You were rammed by an injured man with a bloody rib sticking out of his side. I think I might have just about died if I'd been in your position."

Frieza just growled and shuffled himself into a low crouch, as if stalking his prey. But there were three of them and only one of him. She wondered if those odds even counted in their favor, seeing as Goku didn't look like he would enjoy moving all that much, and a single hit to her could easily kill her. Vegeta was the only able fighter out of all of them, and he now had two people he had to worry about protecting.

"Can't you do anything to help?" she asked Goku, and lowered her gaze when she saw the pitiful expression on his face from her question. She just hadn't expected him to be taken down so easily. But maybe Vegeta had been right. Maybe Frieza just got a lucky shot, and he wasn't that much stronger than Goku. She certainly hoped so, or they were really all going to die. But she mentally apologized to Goku for asking. She knew that if he could help in the upcoming and inevitable fight, he would. And she didn't even know if he'd decided not to yet. The fight hadn't even started yet.

"Is that a challenge?" Vegeta asked, and Bulma lifted an eyebrow at his obvious excitement at the concept of being challenged. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He mirrored Frieza's crouch and snarled.

"I don't think you truly know what it is you're getting into, little prince," Frieza said mockingly, but his tone then changed to a more serious one. "Really. You _can't win_." And then there was a moment of silence, a calm tranquility in the middle of a raging storm.

The first person to move was Vegeta, which Bulma was thankful for considering that if Frieza had charged, the battle would have taken place nearly a few feet in front of her and Goku, who was now leaning back to rest on the floor. He seemed pretty confident in Vegeta, to say the least. Bulma just hoped he was right to think that Vegeta could handle the battle on his own.

As Vegeta charged, he screamed, the golden aura around his enlarging by almost one hundred percent. Bulma felt a whip of wind blow her hair back and stared after him in awe. And after less than a second of watching him, he vanished. Frieza jumped, and Bulma watched as he reappeared behind his enemy, elbowing Frieza in the back of the neck and tossing his forward like a sack of flour.

Frieza stumbled, but he didn't fall, and when he whipped his head around, a look of pure rage was on his face. "Why you little—" But Vegeta disappeared and reappeared again, smashing his fist into Frieza's face. And after the first blow made contact, Frieza began dodging his punches, kicks, knees and elbows, but the more Frieza dodged, the faster Vegeta attacked. Bulma had never seen such a fight. This was nothing compared to the fights she witnessed on television, and they were even made up to make the fights more interesting. Her eyes could barely follow Vegeta and Frieza's movements. It was very alien of them, and fitting nevertheless.

Both of them stopped and Bulma saw that Vegeta had landed another punch to Frieza's face, but the tiled floor behind his heels was bunched up like a carpet, and it looked like Vegeta had just punched a brick wall.

Frieza grabbed Vegeta's wrist and pushed it aside, a bloody smirk on his face. Vegeta's eyes widened only a fraction of a second before a knee collided with his stomach, throwing him into the air. Bulma repressed her shriek.

Vegeta straightened himself out as he flew across the room, landing both his feet against the far wall and pushing off of it. His aura burst outward once more and Bulma guessed that he was using his ability to fly to assist him in charging back at Frieza through the air.

And then they disappeared. A flash of light appeared to her right, and another to her left, and a third above her. She glanced at Goku, who seemed to still be watching a fight, but both the fighters were invisible to her. But then she saw them, throwing a multitude of attacks at each other as the other dodged them or caught the attack. And they were fighting in midair, near the top of the tall glass ceiling.

And then, in another flash of light, they were on opposite sides of the room, charging at one another again. And when they met, Bulma could see Vegeta throw a punch and Frieza dodge it and kick him in the same movement. His foot landed on Vegeta's chest, knocking the wind out of him.

And then Frieza disappeared.

"Get back here, you coward!" Vegeta yelled, flying down towards the floor, but Bulma couldn't see where Frieza was. "Kakarot!" Vegeta shouted urgently, and the next thing she knew, Goku was hitting her in the back, knocking her forward. She felt a breeze go over her back before she sat up again and realized that Frieza must have targeted her instead of focusing on his fight with Vegeta. She forced down saliva. It wouldn't be very good if he continued on that tactic, seeing as she couldn't always see where Frieza was coming from.

Five more flashes of light blinded Bulma like camera flashes, while both Vegeta and Frieza were invisible to her limited Earthling sight. But when Vegeta appeared, and Frieza appeared behind him, Vegeta just disappeared again, causing Frieza's attacks to be futile.

And then Frieza reappeared to Bulma's eyes near the ceiling, and looked as if he was lost. He glanced around as he floated in the air, but apparently, he could find Vegeta as much as she could. And then she saw him, before Frieza did, which was a surprise. He came from above and elbowed Frieza in the back, driving him all the way to the floor, and shattering the tiles where he landed.

As soon as Frieza stood, Vegeta landed a solid kick to the left side of his face, forcing him back down to the ground as his body skidded along the floor. He skipped like a flat rock on water before coming to a stop and staying there.

Vegeta landed, his back to Frieza, in front of Bulma and Goku.

"I-Is it over?" Bulma stammered, glancing over at Frieza's still and quiet form. For once, he wasn't insulting anyone or barking orders at them.

"I doubt it," Goku said, and then smiled up at Vegeta, almost like a proud father would smile at his son. "I didn't know you Ascended, Vegeta. But I never thought you would have neglected to tell me."

"Ascended?" Bulma asked, and then looked to Vegeta. "What does that mean?"

"It means he's an Ascended Saiyan," Goku replied, gathering Bulma's attention. "It's what comes after a Super Saiyan. It's the next stage in power, you could say." Goku looked back to Vegeta. "When did it happen?" he asked curiously.

"Before you arrived. When we first got here."

Bulma froze. Did he mean when he realized that she wasn't dead, just captured by Frieza's henchmen?

"I…" Frieza mumbled, and Vegeta turned around to face his opponent. "I… dislike… being ignored," he said mockingly, repeating what Vegeta had said before. But Vegeta didn't take the bait. His golden aura lowered until it was no longer visible, and his hair looked more like it had been bleached white rather than a beautiful shade of gold.

Vegeta arrogantly swaggered over to Frieza, who was trying to lift himself off the ground, but shaking as he did so.

"How?" he whispered, and then raised his voice, "Just how could a lowlife Saiyan idiot like you beat me?! I… must have… miscalculated something." He stammered as he lifted himself and eventually got to one knee.

"Stay down!" Vegeta shouted, opening his palm and facing it towards Frieza. His aura shot right back up again, too, brightening the room. But Frieza didn't listen. Instead, he stood, holding his left elbow with his right hand as blood tricked down his arm. Bulma wrinkled her nose when she saw that his blood was purple instead of red. It hit the broken floor with a loud splattering noise.

Vegeta roared as a bright blue light formed in the palm of his outward-facing hand. And when it was fired, the room turned white, doused in the light of the energy coming from his attack. Bulma yelped and turned her head away. It was like looking directly at the sun, and her eyes were watering even when she looked away from it. She enviously noticed Goku's wide eyes watch every move Vegeta made.

When the light dissipated, Bulma opened her eyes to a cloud of smoke. Pieces of the floor had turned to ash and were now raining down on her and Goku. She waited patiently for the smoke to clear so she could see what had happened.

But when it cleared, Vegeta was standing on the ground, his aura still flared up around his golden form. Frieza was nowhere to be found.

"Was that it?" she asked, her eyes combing the floor for a skull, or something to tell her that it was finally over.

"No," was Goku's simple reply, "He's up there." He pointed to the ceiling, and Bulma followed his finger to find that the glass at the top of the room had been shattered, and Frieza was hovering just outside of the broken glass. And both he and Vegeta were just staring at each other, without a sound or a movement.

And then Bulma saw Frieza smirk. And in the next second, he was gone. Vegeta snarled as his aura became bigger, and he shot into the air after him. Bulma saw four flashes in different places before she found them both, off to the left. Frieza threw a punch, but Vegeta disappeared and he was left hovering in the air, off-balance. But as Vegeta reappeared behind him to deliver a kick to the skull, Frieza disappeared and reappeared up above them, hanging upside down as he mocked Vegeta with crossed arms.

"You have some nice tricks, little prince," he said, a sweet and sour tone in his voice. "But, although they were impressive, I find myself getting bored with you. So, if you have any other tricks you'd like to perform for me, feel free to do so before I finish you." He concluded with a nail check, scanning over his hand and flipping it over a few times to get his point across.

"You want to see my tricks?" Vegeta shouted. "Then I'm happy to accommodate you!"

Vegeta soared up to the top of the room and slammed the bottom of his palm into Frieza's jaw with such speed that even Frieza hadn't seen it coming. He tried to retaliate with a punch, but Vegeta ducked out of the way as he took his swing. He then landed a solid fist in Frieza's stomach, and Bulma saw him cough up more purple blood. Vegeta took his opportunity and flew up, elbowing his father's murderer in the back of the neck. Frieza barely had the time to stop himself before coming in contact with a painful hit to the tiled floor below. But less than a second later, Vegeta came down on top of him, landing both feet on his back and slamming him into the floor not a foot away from his body from his previous fall.

Vegeta flipped backwards in the air and lightly tapped back down to the floor as a cloud of dust and debris from the smashed and shattered floor shrouded Frieza. He wasn't moving.

And as if to say that he wasn't getting back up anytime soon, Vegeta let go of his flowing gold aura, and put his back to Frieza. He walked over to the two of them and knelt down.

"Is it over now?" Bulma asked again, hoping for a simple yes as the response. Vegeta turned around to look at his opponent while he answered her.

"He's still alive, but it would be foolish and stupid to get up after that. Even for Frieza. If he gets up, I'll kill him. If not… I'll kill him later."

Goku chuckled. "Wow. Remind me to have a fight with you when this is all over— Vegeta, look out!—"

A blast from behind hit Vegeta in the back and he let out a scream of pain. And when he whipped back around in fury,, his aura coming back stronger than before, Bulma saw that one of the lager gashes on his back had been opened. And it was already starting to bleed heavily down his back, staining the top of his blue spandex training pants.

"I dislike being ignored!" Frieza gurgled, choking on his own saliva and blood as he tried to force out a laugh. But the joke didn't go over well with Vegeta. He straightened his posture, and placed both his hands together, palms facing Frieza.

"Well now you have all of my attention, you fucking bastard! Enjoy it!" And he let out a stream of blue light and energy. It soared across the chamber and sounding like a boom of thunder as the entire room filled up with another thick cloud of dust from the blast. And when it cleared a few moments later, Bulma looked away from Frieza's mangled form. His purple blood had splattered over the wall behind him and his face was torn, his teeth showing from what looked to be a broken jaw. His skull had caved in on the left side, leaving a large dent filled with bubbled, purple blood. His ruby red eyes were glazed over with a light blue hue and he seemed to be staring at the ceiling.

Bulma couldn't help but bury her face in her hands, but a second later, she felt Vegeta's arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. They stayed like that for only a few seconds before Bulma's side became wet and slippery. She looked at her clothes and found them stained and dripping with Vegeta's blood. The sight of red blood made her finally feel like it was truly over, but it also made her heart race.

"We have to get you some help," she said quickly, and turned to Goku, "You, too, Goku… Goku?" But he was unconscious, lying on his back on the floor behind her. "Vegeta, we have to help…" But he was breathing heavily, and now his comforting arm around her shoulders was being used to hold him upright as he leaned against her for support. "Vegeta…" He grunted as he tried to sit up, but he ended up knocking them both over. Bulma spat when his blood dripped into her mouth when she gasped as they hit the floor. "Please. You have to get up," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. "Goku's out. You have to get him out of here, Vegeta. Please, try and get up."

She didn't know what fighting could have done to Vegeta when he was injured like he was, but she knew that his bleeding, reopened gash certainly wasn't good for him at all.

"Goku?" she said softly, reaching for the other Saiyan. His hair was back to its originally spikey, black style, but his eyes were closed, so she couldn't see if they were still teal or not. "Goku, wake up," she said, raising her voice as she used her free hand to shake him back and forth. "Vegeta," she pleaded, looking back at him, but his eyes had closed. "Guys! Wake up! We can't stay here. We have to leave now. Do you hear me? Vegeta? You have to get up!"

But just as she finished shouting, the large doors to the main chambers squeaked as they were pushed against, and Bulma's head whipped around in fright and panic. She couldn't count them, but she guessed that there must have been at least fifteen henchmen entering the room. Her breath caught in her throat and she coughed, almost choking on it.

"Please," she whispered desperately, "Get up. Please, you have to get up."

The henchmen glanced at her, and she saw the way they looked at her, like she was a piece of meat, a rare cut that they didn't get to enjoy very often. But one of them noticed Frieza's mangled corpse stuck against the far wall, and he pointed it out to the others, who locked their gazes on the bloody body. It was as if Bulma was no longer in the room to them. And when they turned back to face her, they didn't even see her. All they saw was Vegeta, and the way he was leaning on her, the blood draining from his body.

And that was when Bulma understood. Frieza was dead, and Vegeta, the rightful heir to the throne of Planet Vegeta, was lying unconscious, bleeding as he used her for support. Two things clicked in her mind. The first was that they now recognized Vegeta as their leader. The second was that, even though neither Goku nor Vegeta was coherent enough to help her if need be, the lowly henchmen wouldn't dare harm her if she was close to Vegeta, their new king. She was safe, and she was strangely sure of it.

"Well?!" she shouted at them. "Don't just stand there! He needs medical attention, _immediately_! And so does he!" She pointed to Goku to make sure they wouldn't forget him in their rush to assist Vegeta.

And in the next second, a throng of henchmen was surrounding the three of them. And Bulma couldn't help but laugh as two stretchers were brought out to them. She understood now. They were going to be okay. All three of them. They were all going to be okay. It was over. It was finally over…

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

Bulma sat in a room by herself, on a long bench that looked like it could have seated six or seven people without crowding them. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, but she guessed it had probably been quite some time. Her butt was numb, and she no longer had the strength to cross her legs. Instead, they just sprawled out in front of her.

Her eyes were dry, and her eyelids felt heavy. She needed to rest. She hadn't slept in over a day or two. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed since she was captured back at Broly's house. But she couldn't fall asleep. Not until she knew that Vegeta was going to be okay. She worried about Chichi, wherever she was. Goku's recovery went well, but he was still resting. And he was the only one who knew where Chichi was, and he refused to tell the henchmen so that they could go get her. She assumed that he was still weary, and probably thought that the henchmen were a danger.

Bulma was quite surprised at how easily the henchmen had come to her and her Saiyan friends' aid when they saw that Freiza was dead. She thanked them in her head for being so quick about their decision, but she had also learned how easy it was for them to turn around and follow someone else's orders. She mentally shrugged. That was probably why they were only henchmen instead of anything greater than that. They were soldiers, bent on following orders. They were probably very confused when they had no one around to tell them what to do. Bulma guessed that that was the reason they had so eagerly listened to her when she told them to help Goku and Vegeta.

But now that Frieza was gone, and Vegeta could take his rightful place on the throne as the planet's king, she couldn't help but realize that this was where they would part. Not forever, of course, but he planned to stay here and rule, like he should. And Bulma would have to go home to her parents and explain everything to them. She would probably be punished for a very long time, because she knew that they wouldn't understand. And Vegeta wouldn't be there with her.

She felt her eyes slowly closing, even thought she was fighting against it. She didn't want to sleep. Not until she got word of Vegeta's condition. Goku's rib was fixed in less than an hour. He was instructed not to train or fight for a while, but he was going to be just fine.

Bulma didn't understand what could be taking so long. He had wounds all over him, so they probably gave him a few stitches, and he lost a lot of blood, so they probably stuck a needle in him. She didn't know how it could be taking so long to get a single word about him.

Her eyes bolted open when she heard the door open, and a lady dressed in a white uniform stepped out. Bulma jumped up, almost forgetting about how tired she was, but she became slightly dizzy, and was forced to sit back down.

"How is he?" she urgently asked the woman.

"The King will be just fine." The woman said, and it took a fraction of a second that felt like ten minutes for Bulma to recognize that the lady meant Vegeta when she said the King. And she felt like jumping for joy. But instead, her dry eyes just stung a bit when she felt a tear trickle down the side of her face.

And then a loud bang came from inside the adjacent room, and the woman in the white uniform jumped uncontrollably. "Oh, no," she said, stepping back towards the door.

"What is it?" Bulma quickly asked.

"He's at it again. Broke the table and everything," she murmured nervously.

Bulma stood up slowly and walked toward to door, but the woman held out her hand to block her path.

"What do you think you're doing?" she reprimanded, as if Bulma was her daughter.

"I can make him stop breaking things, if that's what he's doing," she said simply, pursing her lips and smacking the woman's hand out of her way. Luckily, she obviously wasn't a Saiyan, because Bulma easily moved her out of the way.

"Please. You aren't allowed in there," the woman said, but Bulma ignored her and reached for the door. And just as she went to push on it, it opened, and Vegeta was standing right in front of her, and angry and prideful look on his face. Bulma caught a glimpse of a man lying on the floor and shattered glass around him before Vegeta stepped out and shut the door.

"You!" he shouted, pointing a finger at the woman, "Ready a shuttle-pod! I want it ready for launch in five minutes!" Bulma sighed, but then realized that the space pod was probably for her. She hadn't realized that she would be leaving so soon.

Vegeta stomped out of the exit and into a hallway. "Get this place cleaned up!" he shouted to someone, "It looks like a garbage dump in here! Do you think I want this place to look like a dump?! This is _my_ palace now! I doubt you would let it get this disgusting if my father was here! Would you?!"

"Vegeta," Bulma called, chasing after him and grabbing at the back of his thin white shirt. She thought he looked funny in a white t-shirt and black pants, neither of which hugged his form at all. He still looked as handsome as ever, but the new look made Bulma have to control the way she stared at him from behind.

"You should get some rest," he said without turning to her, and Bulma sighed at the reminder. Her eyelids seemed to gain an extra ten pounds just from him mentioning it.

A man trotted up beside her and held out something in his palm to Vegeta, his head bowed low. In his other hand was a small paper cup filled to the rim with crystal-clear water. "Sir, you have to take the medicine, or your wounds could become infected," the man pleaded, but Vegeta ignored him, folding his arms across his chest and purposefully avoiding looking at the man.

"Here," Bulma said, taking the cup from the man as he looked at her, surprised as if he hadn't noticed her there before. "I'll give it to him." He cautiously gave her the medicine, which was nothing more than a small pink pill, and then hurried off, probably anxious to get away from Vegeta after the mess he just caused and his angry rampage from being treated by physicians.

When the man was gone, Vegeta began walking down the corridor. Bulma stayed with him, and held out the paper cup. She didn't know how long the inside layer could prevent the water from soaking into the cup, but she wasn't planning on finding out.

"Will you please take this?" she asked politely, trying not to press. "The last thing you need is an infection, too."

And then he stopped walking, and he turned to her. "Do you want to leave now?" he asked, his gaze locked on her, and for the first time in a while, she knew that all he saw was her. He didn't pay any heed to where they were, or the people that skittered by, aware of their new king's presence.

"That depends," she replied. "I would love to go back to Earth and see my parents before they have a heart attack. But I don't want to leave because…" She paused, not sure if bringing up the topic of separation would cause anything sudden to happen. She didn't want him to send her on her way. But he asked for the pod to be ready in five minutes, half of which were probably already gone by now.

"Why?" he asked, but Bulma was sure he knew the answer. Maybe he just wanted to hear her say it, but she didn't appreciate it.

"You know the reason why I'd rather stay," she replied.

"Me," he said. It wasn't a question. And Bulma nodded sarcastically, feeling the need to insult his intelligence because of it, but keeping her mouth shut. Instead, she just pushed his shoulder and began walking again. "Do you want to stay?" he asked, and she turned back to him. He hadn't moved to follow after her.

"I would love to, but you know I can't. My parents, and school, and all of this…"

"What?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Everyone on this planet is stronger than me. Didn't we go over this already? It wouldn't be very safe for me here. You said it yourself. And I need to see my parents, too. It doesn't feel right just leaving them there without knowing anything about where I've gone. They probably blame you, you know," she giggled. "Well, my father definitely does. I think my mom was starting to warm up to you a bit, though." She smiled at him and titled her head. He wasn't smiling back. He looked more like he was thinking about something offhandedly.

"Do you… want me to come back with you?" he asked, and Bulma jumped.

"What did you just say?" she asked, stopping her jaw from dropping. "After everything you told me about it being almost impossible for you to leave here after you ascended the throne, you're asking me if I want you to come back to Earth?"

"Obviously," he replied, rolling his eyes arrogantly as he unfolded his arms to place them at his sides. "This planet is boring me already anyway…"

Bulma couldn't help but laugh as she smiled. She ran up to him and tackled him with a hug, which didn't move him at all, but she felt his hand move to the small of her back in response, and his lips touched down on top of her head. She felt him breath in the scent of her hair, which she hoped didn't smell all that bad from her lack of a shower for a good four or five days. But after only a few seconds, he placed a hand on her shoulder and pried her off of him.

"But you're forgetting something," he said, placing the tip of his pointer finger on her forehead and lightly trailing it down her nose, over her lips, and under her chin. He lifted her face and kissed her forcefully, instantly parting her lips with his and breathing her in. Bulma moved her lips in time with his, feeling the familiarly cool breath hit her. It was like the first kiss all over again, hot and passionate. But, again, after a few seconds, he separated them. "Kakarot has informed me of where we will find his raven, and I'm sure he doesn't want her to stay out much longer."

"So we have to go find her?" Bulma breathed, cursing herself for losing her breath so easily. Vegeta seemed to be fine after their kiss, but all she could think about was doing it again. They hadn't kissed in so long, and now that the fighting was over, she felt her raging hormones attack her brain once more, clouding her judgment and making her thoughts focus on what they could do once they were out of the public's eye.

"No. I ordered a few lowlifes back there to find her about an hour ago. They should be back any minute now. Kakarot will find his own way out, and I'm sure the raven will want to stay with him. So, they can follow after us later. They already said that they both plan on going back to Earth anyway, so what fun could I possibly have here without those two to entertain me?"

Bulma shook her head and laughed. "So, we can leave right away?"

"Once you pack your things," he replied.

"That's convenient. I didn't bring anything with me. Well, nothing that I can salvage now," she shrugged. "So we can leave... Unless you want to pack anything?"

He shook his head and began walking again, passing her and taking her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulled her along. Bulma smiled at the floor.

"Next stop… home," she whispered, closing her hand tightly over his.

"Home it is," he said.


End file.
